January 23rd, 2004
Harold Della'Alba is stalking me. Not really, but kinda. He transferred to Alta Bates for some new, experimental and mostly theoretical treatment being performed in collaboration with UC Berkeley and UC San Francisco.
He hadn't called in a while, and I was starting to worry. I decided to call him. I was on break, standing next to the nurse's station and talking to Alma. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed his number.
"O Fortuna!" began playing in the room across the hallway. I hung up. I waited. The opera stopped.
I dialed again.
"Sors immanis, et inanis..." I hung up and poked my head into the room.
"Well, hey there peach. Long time, no see."
I've begun publishing unfinished entries as a way of allowing readers to preview the entries which are yet to come. Also, the dates don't mean anything as far as actual in-game chronology goes.
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