Lacking any creativity, I am reduced to recycling old missives. I wrote this in the Spring of 2002, when I was unemployed, aimless, and dissolute. I moped and I flailed about. Here goes:
7:30 am - awaken of own volition.
7:30-7:45 am - dog, having sensed movement, wedges rather large head beneath pillows, bedclothes, and whichever limb is covering my face, which he licks. forelegs on the bed, he wiggles his 100 lb. body, unleashing seismic activity until I am either annoyed or amused enough to get up and take him on a walk.
7:45-8:00 am - watch dog poop, gambol and drool. pick up poop.
8:00-8:05 am - carry poop to homestead garbage can. la poubelle.
8:05-8:30 - contemplate and avoid my breakfast. perhaps drink something caffeinated, which will create an almost desperate hunger later.
8:30-8:45 - pull some weeds, curse the subterranean rodent that continually uproots and aerates my already parched flowers.
8:45-9:00 - not certain what happens here.
9:00-9:30 - wonder what sort of exercise might occur today. consider the cost of belonging to a gym and what sort of health benefits are obtained by never actually setting foot in the place. is there an osmotic accrual of muscle mass in the given situation? is sloth a sin truly and rightly belonging to the seven deadlies? consider becoming a smoker.
9:30-10:00 - sulk
10:00-10:30 - brood
10:30-11:00 - fit of lachrymose hysteria
11:00-11:20 - having realized that blood sugar levels are dangerously low, eat something. probably involves peanut butter.
11:20-12:30 - pass out from food coma
12:30-1:00 - prepare for Days of Our Lives
1:00-2:00 - watch soap with dulled interest. mixed feelings of neurotic delight and mirth due to wacky voodoo subplot. regressive pleasure and fantasy fulfillment at high school love quadrangle - is Chloe really going to die before she's deflowered? vague ennui at the predictability of the villainess' refusal to learn from past mistakes.
2:00-2:05 - wonder why, in the main, men in soaps never really seem to treat their women poorly, or even with careless unconcern.
2:05-2:20 - bathe, if necessary.
2:20-3:00 - feign interest in appearance, while contemplate dialing failing love interest and having "the talk." observe ego rage and feelings of abandonment rise.
3:00-3:15 - check in with exec. prod., who may have a short term job for me.
3:15-3:20 - call best friend at all three numbers and reach him at none.
3:20-4:00 - run errands before LA traffic becomes impassable. maybe eat something.
4:00-5:00 - think of painting, writing or some other creative endeavor, yet lie impassive on couch or bed or floor like the "help, i've fallen" medic-alert lady.
5:00-5:15 - play ball with pooch.
5:15-6:00 - check email and act underwhelmed at absence of correspondence. write to friends whiney and self-pitying missives, intermixed with mildly amusing banter about pop culture. query as to the absence of Nell Carter and the subsequent cultural void. and why did I have childhood lust for James Mason and Peter O'Toole? hope for illuminating answers from wiser and more together friends.
6:00-6:30 - fret that weird correspondence is alienating to wiser and more together friends.
7:00-7:05 - mental tirade over the comic strip Cathy and its utter degradation of women. which brings to mind the equally upsetting cable station, Lifetime. cursing and pacing are evident.
7:07 - oh shit! is Friends on?
8:30 - turn off television.
8:30-9:00 - repeat of morning dog walk, productive as usual. potentially longer if i self-indulgently pass by failing love interest's apartment building. deep thoughts during entire walk and stiff resolution to be more productive tomorrow.
9:00-10:30 - probably several phone calls, generally a few with 1st best friend, Stephen. rehashing of funny college moments likely. tears probable if near full moon. otherwise, comic beratement of each other's foibles, coupled with genuine reassurements of loving support. inevitable profanity and prurience. at some point 1st best friend, Stephen, will beg for promise of future marriage, while stipulating that consummation is unnecessary. next conversation however, he will pronounce his desire for sexual activity in the most lascivious and depraved tones. at which time, i will laugh in his ear until my stomach muscles cramp up and my eyes water. he will then tell me he hates me unequivocally. then we will talk about something else until he falls asleep while muttering non sequitur. this while originally annoying, has become a favorite game: i will respond in kind, but probably about something occult until he is startled awake and yells, "God damn you, ______!" and flicks on his lights. then we promise to speak tomorrow.
10:30 - sleepytime - wonder if masturbation is really worth it. read something spiritual, motivating, and/or self-helpy. otherwise something ridiculously arcane. recently, Bakhtin's Rabelais and His World, which is really quite interesting for its examination of the cultural function of Carnivale and the Grotesque tradition, yet potentially hypocritical of me, as I've never read a word of his literature, though I can name his most famous tome, and authoritatively. which leads me to wonder how you can be what that word implies having only read and researched without having actually written. should we instead say literatively? which, in this case, I cannot even claim. so I worry about that awhile, then excuse myself because I know I would readily admit it, even offer up this flaw. this reminds me of the time I took the MMPI (complicated psych test/evaluation) which showed, among other things, that I was more honest than the average person, which demonstrated that I lacked normal and healthy defenses. it never pointed out that when drowsy i tend to run-on.
pre-sleep - resolve to purchase and read Gargantua & Pentagruel.