June 13, 2003

Can’t sleep thinking and worrying about things that I can’t control. Isn’t that always the way. I was going to go to Florida this weekend, but that’s out now — something about parts not there, no time because of a fence, or something that means no. I guess I could use the time to actually get some work done, but that’s the last thing on my mind right now. Teaching all week takes it out of me; I don’t want to write on the weekends. If I had any money, I'd visit Savannah. Maybe it’s time to address the mundane, though that seems like all I do these days. At least I have Homer.

Oh, I have listened, albeit cursorily, to the new Steely Dan. So far, my favorite song is “Everything Must Go”: a great metaphor, as are most of the songs on the disc, for quiet endings. When I can quote lyrics (the disc case is in my car, and I really don't want to go get it right now), I'll write more.

I feel like sleeping, but it won't come. I've been up all night and, as the Counting Crows sing, “it’s too late to get high now” to help that sleep along. And I won’t be sleeping all day.

Perhaps next weekend...