Church seizure light continues its blink onslaught while my recovery from last evening's explosion (see Attendance Card, below) of frustration at my inability to move anything anywhere, to notch the smallest victory that doesn't have anything to do with death, to know what I want from life beyond a path that no longer seems to want me (if it ever did), at feeling like the brunt of a joke I've been playing on myself for the last quarter century, continues. All maddeningly unclear in this, my 13th year of residency in the 51st state of purgatory.