I’ll make you a grilled cheese sandwich if you’ll screw in a light bulb for me.

In this post: Slave labor, fashion and fragrance, living in the dark.

Sam just called to tell me he’s working late tonight. In official “Samspeak,” however, this means he’ll be in the office ALL NIGHT LONG (and all by himself) until first shift comes in at 7 a.m. To drown my disappointment I decided to buy the following cute charcoal gray wool poncho because my birthday is Friday and I’m figuring ... what the hell, why not?

Incidentally, I’d order that little gray hat, too, except it’s not sold on the website where I bought the poncho and hats give me a headache, anyway. I’ll just buy a bottle of Donna Karan Cashmere Mist on eBay and call it a day. (I love Cashmere Mist.)

The torchiere in the family room burned out tonight. I’d love to change the bulb if I could, but: 1) the lamp is too tall and too heavy for me; 2) I have zero manual dexterity thanks to diabetic peripheral neuropathy in both hands; and 3) I can’t stand up without pain for more than two or three minutes at a time. I’ll just have to watch “The Daily Show” in the dark unless you’d like to come over to take care of my lighting crisis in Sam’s absence. I’ll even make you a grilled cheese sandwich. Thank you for your consideration and have a nice day.