There's the number of my body index, and the number of my cholesterol. There's the number of years I've lived, and the numbers that come off of scales, blood pressure cuffs, and personality tests. There's the number in black and white on my bank statement, and the number on my credit card bill. I can give a little number on a blood test form or on a stock market page the power to keep me up all night with a sick feeling in the depths of my guts. I have food in the fridge, warmth and safety in my home, and nothing happening in the neighborhood, but the little number on a website or a page of paper can deliver quite a shock. It can spoil my happiness. Ho hum, I tell it.