I drove my car today. I don't remember when I last used it, and as you might recall, it was, until recently, locked in fender-high walls of plowed snow with the consistency of concrete. I guess the warmer temperatures and the astounding rainstorm we had the other night finally freed my ride.

For viewers just tuning in, I live in Boston. I never move the car because driving and parking in a city is impossible and we have a perfectly adequate subway and a large taxi population.

So it's always kind of a kick to take the car out. I know it's going to be a hassle but I love driving, and Memorial is always a nice ride. I like Storrow, too, during the rare times it's not backed up inbound, but the s-curve just past Government Center is where I played pinball in my red Saab and lost in February 2000.

Anyway. I stopped by Mass General to get my labs done. MGH is not fun in a car. Crowded little garages and the world's slowest elevators in them (I took the stairs). While the lab tech was finishing up with me, a guy came in with what looked like an insulated food delivery bag and started loading little packages. The Domino's Delivery guy of blood tests. "It's still warm when it gets there," he explained. "Or your next one's free," I said.

I went to MicroCenter to see about an adaptor for my antique Stylewriter and compare prices with Outpost and MacConnection. I came home with a new HP printer. The printer was less than a hundred bucks. The adaptor is around sixty bucks. Not a tough choice there. I still can't use my scanner, but I imagine the same thing will happen. The scanner is several years old and the adaptor is over sixty bucks and I can get a smaller USB scanner for a hundred bucks. Just not now.

My father donates my old equipment to Washington Apple Pi, which refurbishes them and gives them to schools and so on. I need to find the equivalent up here, because once I get a backup device for Joshua (the G4), the 8600 and my even older Apple monitor (hey, and a Stylewriter 1200) have gotta go. Out, out of my life.

I like the guy at MicroCenter. (Hey, man, you found your way here. Hi.) He's friendly, he knows his stuff, and he's known me practically since I moved to Boston. He's always been honest with me, and I notice that in a person who sells me stuff. My father will complain a bit, but 1995 was a long time ago in computer years and for forty bucks more I get color, too. And I won't have to hand-feed the pages as I've had to on the Stylewriter since the rollers sort of died a while back.

As an aside, here, the desk is next to the fireplace, which is big and brick and has a brick mantel about eighteen inches above the desk. That's where the Stylewriter is. It's just tall enough that I have to stand on my toes and stretch my chin up to see what I'm doing when I'm trying to hand-feed those pages.

Are you convinced? I am. Thank you, drive through.

I went to Petco in Brighton after that, which is sort of the burbs. They have a parking lot, 'nuff said. These places are almost as bad for me as computer stores. My ADD just goes nuts. All the animals! All the cat stuff! All the bright colors and chirps and squeaks! Keith and I went to a Petco once which had a woman with a parrotlike bird on her shoulder running the register. It was very cool. I could never work in one of these places. I just fritz out in them.

I went in search of cat furniture, which is usually in the back and was this time too. I wanted to get a cat tree for Cricket. Have you ever looked at these displays? Some of these cat trees are taller than I am. Who buys these things? More importantly, how do they get them home?

I ended up with a medium-sized tree with a scratching post built in and a cool little window seat for cats you don't even need tools to install. I also picked up a fresh bag of catnip and a couple of interactive toys. Cut me some slack; my cat's depressed. I've been a lousy mom. I'm overcompensating.

I got back home later than I'd planned, which meant traffic was worse than I'd hoped. Friday night in Boston's Back Bay. I took a deep breath and double-parked in front of my building and started hustling stuff into the foyer. By some miracle, my own personal Boston Transportation daemon did not appear, and I did not get a ticket. This alone is worth noting.

I got a parking space after fifteen minutes or so of circling. I hadn't even started to steam yet. I was just grateful. I was exhausted and pale. My hair was tangled and my coat was smudged from leaning against the car. I looked like a survivor in a disaster movie. About three doors down from my apartment, a guy coming the opposite direction, someone tall and twentysomething, saw me and started singing something like, "Sing me a happy song, don't be blue..."

I wasn't quick enough to return the smile, but he must have heard my laughter. I love living in the city. In spite of everything, people are just cool. It all balances out. Mostly.

FYI: Cricket has shown zero interest in her cat tree. Feh. She will. She better.