This is the time at which I have arisen for the past three days, today included. Today I got ten hours of sleep; do the math. Yeah, it's really weird.
I guess I'm off my jet lag now, because yesterday I was begging for sleep like you would beg for clothes if you were naked and in an ice box. Well, actually, only your feet would be in the ice box because ice boxes are small, so maybe you wouldn't be begging for clothes, I don't know!
So what happened those three weeks in the boonies?
One: I got tired of reading. I think I'm going to be physically unable to read a book for the next month or so. I read Hornby's The Long Way Down, Vonnegut's Timequake, and Murakami's Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman, but my mistake was trying to read Dostoevsky's 1045-pager The Brothers Karamazov. Don't try it. The dialogue is boring and way too long, which is a shame because when the narrator speaks it's pretty ingenious. I almost got halfway. Almost.
Two: Twenty-six people related to me were all there at one point. That's a lot of people, so it was basically a family reunion. I think I'm the only one who doesn't know how to play guitar among them. My great-aunt was there too, which was pretty cool. She's especially conversational for her age, a big contrast against any of my grandparents.
Three: I wrote a lot in my summer journal, but I don't remember writing anything particularly strong or particularly amusing. It was just an exercise. I think I've lost my mojo.
Four: Mark Bellhorn's average rose to about .260. In celebration, I changed my voicemail greeting.
Five: Iran and North Korea both sucked up to the US at the same time. I don't know why they suddenly decided to get obsequious like a kidnapped prostitute. I kinda only read the headlines.
LATER!
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