I have been networking. With people I don't know. Half of them in industries I never knew existed. An alphabetti spaghetti of acronyms. I doubt I'll get work, but a few party invitations would be nice:-o All this connecting makes me feel industrious. But all it really does is set me up for DVT at my Mac. This has not been a week distinguished by industry. The website boys had a hissyfit. They liked their internet version of Blue Peter's Tracy Island. We hit an impasse. By yesterday we'd parted company. Back to the drawing board. Where can I find a designer who'll work for four chocolate buttons, a bag of Wotsits and a pair of socks? Meanwhile, those around me continue to unravel. A lot of pets are kicking the bucket. One dog and one cat this week, already. I haven't had a pet since Sexpot. My hamster. When he died, my mother lovingly fashioned him a casket lined with scented Kleenex. And popped him into the communal incinerator. For a month, she became vegetarian. As a mark of respect. Which I thought foolish. It's not as if we eat hamster, though I'm told guinea pig is a worthwhile delicacy:-o