It's amazing how much better I feel in this climate. The time leading up to the Monsoon is really hard on me. I'm so glad I missed that dust storm the other day, which, as my father pointed out when reading a New York Times tidbit on it, has an Arabic name. No wonder Al Qaeda liked Arizona so much. At any rate, I'm going to go absorb some more cool, salty air for my lungs. I'm starting to feel like one of those characters in a nineteenth-century narrative that is always traveling to the sea to recover from consumption. If only my ATM card were doing the same. . .