It’s a morning for strawberry Jell-O with peaches. I admire the jewel-tone pinks and oranges and usher guests around the office. I connect a new employee with the dishevelled hero who fixes her disruptive computer problem. I tell an anxious co-worker to relax – if you can stand it – and let a colleague solve a big problem. He will. It takes two phone calls. My PC is playing Ramones Mania. My shirt is green silk. My coppery hair can be seen from space. I am sitting up straight and pretending to be the hostess this morning. I wonder if Suzanne Pleshette feels this way sometimes.