Go tell it on the mountain; it is well with my soul; constantly abiding; give of the best to the master; and I'll cherish the old rugged cross. Sometimes the apparent dichotomy flummoxes Will when he tries to get across to Jilly that his lapsed decorum from another place hasn't really lapsed but rather has lounged in post-mortem piety for further simmering. It's the goddamn simmering that keeps these episodes from being graduated from that troubled place and essentially reach all celebratory and void of Mr. Remorse. Staying moored in the bodice of extended awareness always invites questions about "how does one get there?" and "why is it so easy when you're there to regress to retelling of the former hijinx that delayed this progression?" Because it is. Look, Will's morning clean up was in a Caesar's Palace replica and he just enjoyed a morning ritual that Oprah would shit her pants to experience and he knows this and thanks God for it (DISCLOSURE: Jill is God). And there's the tie-in to all the hymns mentioned above: God is love, love is Jill, the abundance is appreciated and never misunderstood. Yesterday's shower was the BEST and full gratification is not the diversion the anti-love polemics spew - it's the bullseye.