My house is in chaos! The cats are yowling in panic! My fingers are fragile little icicles at the ends of my arms! It may be quiet here for a while. This morning, the contractors showed up to install new doors on my house — wonderful energy-efficient insulating doors to replace the old thin sheets of plywood — that were ordered way back in October. The first step, of course, is removing all those old doors, opening up the interior to the open air. In Minnesota. In December. And it’s snowing, lightly.

Anyway, if you think this is a perfect opportunity to charge in and penetrate the normally tight security in my lair, I should warn you all that the missing doors are currently manned by burly guys with nail guns and drills, and will soon be replaced with steel-framed thick slabs. With wall-mounted computer-targeted lasers, yeah, that’s the ticket, and exploding doorknobs. And I’ll be warm again, I hope.

No worries. Doors installed; house warming up. Urge to kill… fading… fading… fading — rising! Fading… fading… gone.