Eggs

I just woke up. Ergo, I have missed the inauguration. I am a terrible American. I woke up to two rejection letters, and I smell awful, so maybe I am a very good American. Living the American dream of sleeping in til 2 anyway. I don't know why I'm so tired, but I've reasoned that I'm catching up on all the sleep that I've missed out on during the first semester of the MFA. Mostly out of anxiety. I get really bad anxiety. I've woken up to vomit in the past. I went to the doctor about the terrible pain I was feeling in my abdomen, pointed to where it was in the front and in the back, and he told me I had gallstones. Of course, that wasn't true. I have anxiety.

But break is nice. I've switched books a million times, and I love all of them. At the moment I'm reading The Story of the Eye which is Bjork's favorite book. It's pretty much a fetish erotica book, so I like it. I only know of a few books like that, and they're all French. And, of course, this one is too. At this point, Simone is flinging eggs in the toilet and peeing on them. It's a very strange book. Of course, I want to write something exactly like it.

So, Obama's the president now. I'm changing the places I want to live after the MFA every day. Now that Fadi might not be in Japan when I graduate, I'm thinking of Prague. There's a program where you take a course up there for six months and then start teaching. I can't remember why I've always wanted to go to Prague, but it's been my number one destination for a while. Ugh, I guess it's time to start the day. I hate this part.