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Calcium pills. Two recommended at night. Helps insomniac in me. Slept all these hours straight through. Has to be the pills. Wake up and thank the hell out of those pills. Pills, thank you for your goodness. Thank you for not being Antarctica, where in the summer it is 60º below, where the ice is three miles thick and explorers die off one bye one, the last three from the group huddled together in a tent. The one solemnly writes a last journal entry: “We leave behind our daughters and wives…”

The cats are not pills. They wake up with such energy, trying to instill that in us. This only proceeds to make us more cranky. In my mind I have established an altar for the almighty Calcium – if only for one night it has acted as that sugar pill that has coated calm and certainty overtop asthmatic spats and panics.