So Midnight, Kudzu, Ivan Denisofish and I are going to have to fend for ourselves. (I suppose that really it's going to be me fending for myself, Midnight, Kudzu, and Ivan Denisofish. But honestly, that's not too much more fending than it would take for just me.)
Huh. Laura has discovered that she has the soul of a gypsy. I wonder what my soul is. It would be fun to think that I am also a gypsy by nature, but I think that it's unlikely. I guess I'll just have to wait and figure it out when it comes to me. Or when someone looks at me and says, "You know, Joanna, you clearly have the soul of a(n) ________." Only, obviously, the person would proceed to fill in the blank with "bard" or "merchant" or "high priestess" or "elf" or "itinerant scribe" or "fishmonger" or "receptionist" or other such personage as he or she saw fit.
God, I hope I don't have the soul of a receptionist.
