Out of Egypt:

Unemployed and Useless?

I'm spending most of my time sleeping. I've given up on thought.

Well, I have been reading The Creators by Daniel Boorstin, in a fragmentary kind of way, so inasmuch as reading requires thought, I'm there.

I went walking last night at 10:40 pm, out of the lights and limits of Quarryville into the moonlit dark wood on Sunset Drive. Past the Mitchell's house, past the cornfields, past a pond and its croaking frogs, as the gray-flecked sky passed on. And as I went I wrote a poem in my mind, turning each line over and over until I was quite satisfied.

So how does this poem go? Well, you'll just have to wait for that :) Despite being satisfied, I'm not finished. How's that for paradox?

First Friday tomorrow, according to Matt. Hope that the Philly trip will come through.

To all the people I've emailed recently who haven't replied yet, do so soon, please. Anxiously, I wait...

Might get a job as a "temporary relief carrier" for the Postal Service. The forms are insane. Echoes of "Brazil"...

I seem to have lost all the other ads I cut out of the newspaper. Arg...