As I was heading into work this morning, caught in traffic on Storrow, the driver's side door of the car in front of me opened and a guy stuck his head out and puked. Then shut the door again. And inched forward.

Home again, home again. I honestly couldn't care less about what's going on in the world around me. It's numbness, but without any hostility. I just don't have the energy left to bother getting involved.

Or it's jetlag. In which case I blame Northwest for travel-induced apathy.