How do I . . .

 

. . . get myself into these things.*    Or at least if I have to get into things, couldn't I get into ones that aren't going to cause other aspects of my personality to stab me repeatedly with sharp pointed panic?  I really should have taken up knitting.**  Nobody watches you while you knit.***

            I told you that Blondel gave me Purcell's Evening Hymn for next week.  He played and sang it through for me before I took it away and while I was entirely riveted by the eighty-seven bar...