Friday has brought me a "Betty Crocker" espresso machine, which with his characteristic endearing impulsiveness he stole from in back of Value Village, little knowing (for I never told him) that I needed precisely that in order to be a whole, well, happy, goal-oriented individual. Immediately therewith I, not only suffered, but encouraged him to stay over for as long as he might like (He stayed a couple of days), and I went to Rosauer's, where finding Thomas Hammer's 'Signature Blend' on special, I ground finely (but not too finely)and bought a pound of it, and sugar and milk; and for the last three mornings I have had latti like I like 'em--even retrieving my U of O coffee-bowl from Kristen (with whom I had parked it) in order that I might perfectly steam and froth 'em. Is this not Happiness? Time now to run round to the Inter-Racial Society's Sunday Breakfast, to see if Friday's there, not to eat.