DIARY PAGES: Thalia

I'm half tempted to appear in the kitchen or float on a breeze in through the window (as most subtlety is lost on mortals). I have completed one last intervention to see if I can prod the creature away from its entertainments for five minutes to spare itself the Hammer of Fate.

"You have to admit that some truly amazing things have come out of this dark patch. As your muse, I deserve the lion's share of the credit, as we've come to understand that your superpowers lie in the areas of Whining and Giving Up. Still, it's a partnership and I'm willing to hang in there with you for the long haul. I want you to see the humor in it - no, Imbecile, not the plague or rampant injustice in the world, more your reaction to it ... that here, at a point in history where everything you know trembles at its own vulnerability, you've decided to eat an entire box of Thin Mints in response (dressed in a track suit that makes you look like a Lithuanian arms dealer). That's funny.

Now, get up and get moving."

This is what I told it (as its grandmother) in the dream. We'll see. I'm not betting odds with Dionysus on this one.