I’ve got one of those nasty summer colds, the kind that makes your head feel like it’s stuffed with balsa wood. I’m still working, but my trash contains an impressive mountain of used Kleenex.

Why am I sick? Maybe because I haven’t had any significant exercise in the past week or so. I’m afraid I’m turning into a lump. But check out this horoscope from
Free Will Astrology:

CANCER (June 21-July 22): During my years in college, I enjoyed watching the evolution of Richard, a shy geek in my creative writing classes. Long before he penned a single good poem, he was a bohemian art poseur. On his backpack there was a button with the image of rock poet Patti Smith. He often wore a t-shirt bearing a quote from poetry icon Allen Ginsberg, and he was never without his book of Rimbaud poems. Everywhere I went I saw him scribbling ostentatiously in his journal as he chain-smoked clove cigarettes. To my surprise, Richard’s work gradually began to match his persona. By sophomore year he’d spawned some evocative poems, and soon after he graduated, he published a fine chapbook. In his development I witnessed a perfect example of the saying, “You become what you pretend to be.” That’s an excellent theme for you to meditate on right now, Cancerian.

I need to get back to doing what I do best: fake it ’till I make it.