Monday, February 09, 2004
Feblahary
First off, I don't seem to be writing anything that interests anyone these days. Sure, you all stop by, but no one ever has anything to say. And to make things exponentially better, I'm in a ghastly mood tonight and I can't seem to break it. I'm reading You Shall Know Our Velocity, stumbing through the first fifty pages that are so ridden with anxiety that my own anxious tendencies are being sent into overdrive. I've found myself on the porch twice tonight, reading and smoking in the dark, making my way through the pages, only to realize that I was somehow reading and at the same time playing out my own anxiety-ridden plot in my head.I've always had a flair for picking the wrong book at the wrong time. Anyone have a spare copy of the Bell Jar around? I could just read that and get it over with.
And to make things even more GRAND and STUPENDOUS the "powers that be" have decided that since I spent my weekend cooped up and napping and trying to convince myself that I did not in fact have some bronchial malaise that would eventually kill me, I was entirely deserving of a day of
So, in summary: No one loves me. My portfolio isn't finished. I keep forgetting how to SPELL portfolio. It's still raining. I'm still coughing. And Dave Eggers is f-ing with my head.
Heather at 6:42 PM
