The fire alarm drove me out of my apartment today, so I grabbed what I could of my life's work, stuffed it into my very large, heavy backpack, and wandered up the street. I haven't yet gone back to see if my building is still there. There were two fire trucks pulling up when I left.

I spent the day today writing in a place called "The Bohemian Cyber-Cafe." The decor is abstract and impressionist paintings and computers. There's a shelf lined with old books, and a collection of CD's dangling from the ceiling. Each CD has a letter on it, and they spell out "Bohemia." I could stay here forever trying to comprehend the particular form of irony that this place embodies.