I’d been watching all the people around me fall ill from a cold. Judy, too. I was pleased that it hadn’t dug its nails into me—maybe even somewhat proud. “I must be doing something right.” But it’s got me now. All I can do is lie in bed and cough. I’d hoped to post the third part of “The Three Fundamental Views of Existence” by this point, but it’s been impossible to get any work done. So I’ve been lying in bed pondering the details of a third installment, which has been helpful in fleshing out the piece. Then it occurred to me that this is how it got started: two months ago, I was in bed with a stomach problem and thinking about existence. I don’t know how interesting that is, but I felt like saying something here.