Previously on The West Wing: Josh announced to Donna his second date with Amy; Toby told Josh that Amy's seeing somebody, who turned out to be Congressman John Tandy in the form of the Sprint guy; Josh decided to tell Amy that Tandy's just using her to score political points; Josh blamed Toby for the fact that his relationship with Amy's fouled up; Leo thought POTUS likely has a lot on his mind.

Mighty big props to the readers who presented me with the wonderful gift of an Aeron chair. This is the first recap I've written in it, and I'm already cracking under the pressure of trying to write a recap that will live up to this chair's glory...and I've barely begun.

It's 5:14 AM, and we're in Josh's apartment. He's getting out of bed. Don't get too excited. He's fully pyjamaed. I know, you're disappointed. They could have at least had him shirtless. Personally, I'm more excited about the fact that we're actually getting to see a staff member at home, which also means I have a new set to ogle. Josh ambles out of the bedroom in the too-big pair of blue PJs that C.J. gave him when he was recuperating from being shot at; he was wearing them at the end of "The Midterms." They will hereafter be known as C.J.'s PJs. His apartment is pretty nicely done for someone who probably spends slightly more time at home than I do at the local sports bar. As he ambles into the kitchen, we can see that the place is decorated in a mixture of retro/hip/modern style. His kitchen table is oddly wobbly as he passes it, but I kind of like that. The apartment has the same thick, elegant mouldings and French doors and subtle colour scheme as a certain other place I can think of. He's got what has to be a very expensive stainless steel fridge with side-by-side doors and an ice/water dispenser. He immediately turns on the TV news, and then goes to the coffee maker, checks the filter, then gathers it and the coffee grounds up and chucks the mess in the garbage. He goes to the well-stocked fridge and...okay, personally, I'm starting to suspect him of having hired professionals to decorate his place and populate it with signs of life, in order to make Amy and other prospective partners think he has a life. I just don't buy that he has a well-stocked fridge. Some beer, some cheese that dates back to the last Republican administration, some week-old pizza, some lunch meat, and a container of something his mother sent six months back that he's afraid to open now...maybe. Okay, where was I? He goes to the fridge, grabs the can of coffee, finds it's empty, starts to put it back, realizes that's not very smart, and mutters to himself about that. He then goes to the garbage can, gingerly fishes out yesterday's filter and coffee grounds, and plops them in the coffee maker. Nice. As he does so, someone knocks on his door. Pretty early for visitors; yet Josh seems entirely unconcerned and unsurprised. Probably figures it's Donna.