how strange everything has turned out today. i have all the time and energy i need to recooperate, only no recooperation seems to be necessary. ben asks me where i see myself in five years and i'm knocked so off-balance i can only answer, "angry. in LA." a moment of clairvoyance or just wishful thinking? brig, when i relate this story, adds, "you'll be 25." i hadn't even considered that element.
i look over my screenplay and am so dismayed at how much revision is required that i immediately close the window and play 10 games of freecell of which i lose several. brig reminds me, it's freecell, ester -- not life. i've always had problems keeping the two straight.
i try calling my mother every half hour but her government agency only registers a busy signal. i stare at the phone, perplexed. how can the government not have call waiting?
i walk into the bathroom and wash my hands. when i look over to my towel hook, i notice that the dishrag that i stole from parrish hall and have never washed -- and have been using as a towel -- has fallen to the tile. i start laughing and find it difficult to stop. i reach down, pick it up, gently replace it on its hook, and return to my room.