Sabbatical isn't what they think

After Day 4 of my two-month sabbatical, and multiple calls and notes from people who know me and KNOW BETTER, I emphasize that despite what's going around, I am NOT:

- Having a baby
- Having a face lift
- Having a nervous breakdown
- Having a love affair with best girlfriend
- Recovering from a love affair with best girlfriend
- Getting a divorce
- Adopting a baby from Africa
- Interviewing for Katy Couric's job
- Auditioning for 'American Idol'

Not. Not. Not.

I have been eating sushi, getting a haircut, mourning the death of William Styron, and trying to break my 80-pound dog of seven years of dragging me on the leash. I know, "Dog Whisperer" can fix all.

Also, because I'm daft for the stories of the things people part with, I visited a consignment store and a pawnshop. There's something weirdly compelling about the bitter glitter of secondhand wedding rings and the metallic smell of gun oil.

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