I was up in the middle of the night thinking about all the possible repercussions of a borrowed plant, so instead of coming in early this morning to put the plant back in Jane’s cubicle, I drove to work in the middle of the night and put the plant back in the right place. When I got back in bed, I thought I would have slept like a baby once my source of night terror was gone, but no. I just kept thinking about everything that’s wrong with my life right now. I think the problem is that I need to do something bad enough to give me a low level of stress — enough stress to block more serious concerns — but not so stressful that the pain is overwhelming. I guess it’s like a person with arthritis wanting to deflect the pain by inflicting a gentler, more controllable pain. Stealing Jane’s plant was like drilling a hole in one of my molars. So I’m thinking of heading over to Walmart after work.