Wednesday, February 04, 2004

Oh, hello, I've got that bitter wakeful feeling in my stomach. Was it the tamales with the two different kinds of stale fast-food hot sauce (found Del Taco's Del Scorcho and Taco Bell's Fire in one of my bags)? Was it all the altoids I complusively plunked into my mouth? Was it all the writing I was doing yesterday, the fact that I'm a hair from finishing my novel's first draft? Is it woman trouble? Is it Dr. Pepper? I'll tell you one thing, it's certainly not the taste of originality . . .

Maybe I'm spooked. I fell asleep to the cat snoring only to wake a few hours later to find the cat gone--somehow my door had been opened without waking me. And this bothered me. I obsessively thought over all the possible ways the cat could have gotten out of the room. Maybe I was sleep walking? Wouldn't be the first time.

When I was a kid, I once woke up with all my clothes inside-out. I asked my mother about it and she said I'd been wandering the house naked and that she'd had to dress me.

As I keep going with this novel thing and with other things, I'm finding myself feeling an increasing lack of hope about life.

Maybe it was a ghost cat to begin with? Lucky just came into the room now. He doesn't look like he's afraid he won't get let out if he needs to be.

I'm feeling a big dislike for some things right now. Or disinterest. I have so many movies to watch . . . I think I'd rather sit and watch them than do anything else ever again. I guess I'm excited about where my novel is, but it's making me cry, and I'll probably be the only one it does that to.

Actually my eyes are rather stingingly dry at the moment. Lucky looks startled by the motionless door . . . He and his mother, Victoria, have this way of just looking casually startled. Although he can certainly look restful. I was thinking last night of what a business-like expression is on his face when he sleeps.

To-day I'm gonna make a real effort to get my car up and running. Maybe I'll just drive on the flat to the discount tire place? I once drove from Ocean Beach to Santee on a flat (because I'm that kind of scary-stupid). I should be okay.

Hello, Wednesday.

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