Soon the Sabbath will be upon us. The Sabbath, among many things, is a damn in the river, a break in the round that would become endless and spin itself into nothing. Day by day more pages of the story come. Three more pages to trickle out tomorrow and then the rest of Sabbath, a rest that, i admit is incompatible with waking up at 8:30, pounding coffee to get ready to head out into the cold for shul, and then into more cold for the bus and to go from the bus to the store. In some ways it is the busiest of days and yet it is a busyness that makes sense and takes me from what would become deadly routine. The other option is sleeping, sleeping late, sitting in the house till twelve, coming back and sleeping till five Masturbating? None of that wss ever any good.