Something's clearly not right with the world when it's nearly 70 degrees in late November. I guess I should write a letter to the National Weather Creation Bureau and find what's going on. Maybe one of the clerks took several months off and, like me after a lunch break, started working again but so slowly that an observer wouldn't see any progress, and that's why we're having September days still. With any luck, maybe the Metaphysical Congress will take up this issue and actually do something about it, instead of just stalling every piece of new legislation in the Antinomy Committee.

Somehow, November seems even more hollow when it's warm outside. The leaves have still fallen off the trees, the grass is dead, and the bushes in New Mexico have changed into skeletons, and with such warm weather this looks a lot more alarming than previous Falls. Maybe there was a nuclear holocaust, and everybody slept through it.