I’ve rediscovered opera. The tragedies, strangely, satisfy some spot that otherwise preoccupies me, having suffered a recent sting at work (as well as the family blowup, which hasn’t changed). Misery perhaps does love company, and I am trying to use time wisely; La Boheme and La Traviata seem to be hitting the spot. (And oh, how I love Nabucco!) So, for the moment, I’m spending time with Anna Netrebko and Rolando Villazon. And a whiskey.