The Grinch: The nerve of those Whos. Inviting me down there — and on such short notice. Even if I wanted to go, my schedule wouldn't allow it. 4:00, wallow in self pity; 4:30, stare into the abyss; 5:00, solve world hunger, tell no one. 5:30, Jazzercize. 6:30, dinner with me. I can't cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing — I'm booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to nine, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling, and slip slowly into madness........... But what would I wear?