So what am I going to do with this newfound knowledge that I'm a healthy human being? I'm thinking that since whatever I thought might be killing me is apparently doing no such thing, I ought to get my body in better shape. There's nothing like living to a ripe old age and not being able to bend over or climb stairs or make love in the green grass behind the stadium.

No donuts today. I didn't have much appetite after my doctor appointment yesterday, but I did manage to eat three donuts (two for breakfast, one for lunch). Last night I couldn't look at anything more demanding on my system than soup, but I was back in stride today. I just have to be sure not to overdo the bad stuff, because I think I eat healthily most of the time — bran cereal, green salads, that kind of thing. It's not eating in between that I have to keep reminding myself about. And no donuts, except on very special occasions.

It got a little easier for me to move today, too. In fact, I made my usual walk to the post office for the first time this week. That's not a lot of exercise, except when you compare it to "none." None is what I got Monday, when I was starving, and yesterday, when I was suffering.

It was in my mind to get to a grocery store today, and I thought I'd try one a little closer to me than Safeway, which is on the other side of the freeway. All I needed was some yogurt. Oh, and I didn't want to run out of toilet paper. For a couple of items, I could try a new store.

So after my trip to the post office, I got back in the car and headed east on Sebastopol Road. I knew there was an Albertson's in that direction, but I wasn't sure how far it was. It was only a mile or so, a little farther than I thought but not a long drive.

The trouble was that they were working on every block of Sebastopol Road between Stony Point and Albertson's. There were barriers and temporary stop signs and flaggers every inch of the way. When I got to the store, I pulled into the left turn lane and had to wait for a guy who was going over the yellow stripes in the asphalt. He didn't seem to mind my being there, or the fact that I was about to drive over his paint job. By the time he meandered past me so that I could make my turn, the paint was probably dry anyway.

I knew I was in trouble when I saw this almost new supermarket standing next to a near-empty parking lot. No one was around except a few guys who looked as if they probably had nowhere else to go. The windows had no signs on them, and there was no row of shopping carts. No lights, inside or out. Another store in a lower-income neighborhood had gone out of business.

So I turned around and came back home. I can live without my Stonyfield Farm French vanilla yogurt until tomorrow, and I doubt I'll go through a whole roll of toilet paper in one day again soon.

Besides, the store probably would have had a bakery, and the bakery probably would have sold donuts, and ... well, you know.

I'm thinking of today as a day of transition. I'm feeling so much better than yesterday, but not as good as I expect to feel tomorrow. I put in a full day's work, but it took about twelve hours because I had to keep taking breaks. That's not such a bad thing, as long as I have twelve hours, and the flexibility of working at home so I can use that much time to do eight hours of work.