At band rehearsal. The rest of them start playing a jam but I’m still looking for a cable for my guitar. I ask B. if he has one. He looks but he’s looking at the wrong kind. Finally I see there’s been one attached to my guitar the whole time. I laugh at myself, saying I was “seething with frustration” at not being able to play till then.

There’s something terrible about the town of Willimantic. Good thing we only come here to rehearse, I think to myself.