I hardly ever pick up the phone on the first ring. First, I pinch the space between my eyes and try to guess who’s calling . Often the call goes to voicemail, and I don’t really care. But when I do answer, I inhale sharply before I start talking. Then I stay silent for a few seconds before saying anything. Sometimes I feel the urge to say, "I'm not here," but that would make me laugh, which would completely ruin the atmosphere of mystery. Silence is more powerful than speech, much more.

Now the phone rings, what a coincidence. Sorry, not in the mood for a drill. I'd better ignore it. If I did get up, it'll be to take a Tylenol. I have a fever today, quite high, by the way. I go from sweating to freezing every five minutes. I hope this means I'm getting better, like sweat equity—the more you sweat the bigger payoff.

The doctor told me to stay in bed, but I think I'm going to go rogue and get up, just to stretch my legs, decked out in my brand new pajamas. Being in bed and taking medicine puts me in a kind of annoying state of discombobulation I hate. I always get the type of doctor who prescribes a ton of medicine—come on, doctor, it's like killing flies with a cannon. Luckily, I managed to avoid taking antibiotics this time.