Nov. 16, 4 p.m.

Dear Diary:

As I stand on line in the drug store, waiting to pick up my prescription, I perhaps seem a bit more eager than the others. Is it that:

A. I am conscientious about my health.

B. I am late getting to an appointment.

C. My left temple is pounding like high tide on Oahu.

4:10 p.m.

The waiting line ahead appears, if possible, to be longer. I can’t understand it, but I merely chalk it up to:

A. Bad timing

B. A mix-up behind the pharmacy counter

C. The work of Screw Richey Inc., a multinational cabal whose single mission is the continued and escalating aggravation that has been the foundation of my life for the last 30 years.

4:17 p.m.

Two of the pharmacy consultants have gone on a dinner break, and there are still six people ahead of me. Thinking quickly, I:

A. Head off into the store to make non-prescription purchases

B. Make sure I have my insurance card with me