We are well-installed at the Mande Hotel, in the tranquil neighborhood of Cite du Niger, right on the river. At first I felt conflicted and a little guilty about staying in a hotel. I don't know why I felt more guilty about being in a hotel than I did about being in our big house with staff, but I did. For about an hour. Then I got over it.

I've accepted my lot and (sigh) it's really not too bad. It's strange being homeless, but it feels great to just have a few suitcases and not a whole household of stuff to worry about. And the Mande Hotel rules are simple: Madame mustn't carry her own bag anywhere! Madame mustn't carry her empty tonic bottle to the bar! Madame mustn't do much of anything except sleep in, then, after going to the office and pretending to work for a few hours, sit by the pool and read, or sit in bed watching CNN and drooling into the pillows.

Now Madame must vacate the office tout-suite. The pool is calling.