8 April 2011

April 8, 2011

I had to write my bio today. I had nothing to say. There are certain activities that count and certain ones that don’t.

The lady who cuts my hair might be the saddest lady I know. I always ask her how’s she doing and she always says, “busy,” like she’s about to cry. I know she has a daughter and that for awhile she was dating a guy, but that’s about it. I have no way of making her life better. I usually tip well.

After I got my coffee this morning, the guy behind the counter said, “dude, I can barely move my arms.” and I wasn’t sure how to respond.

Here are three aphorisms about conversations:

1. The secret to a good conversation is knowing how to end it.

2. Conversations are like tennis matches.

3. Etc, and so on.

I got my hair cut today.

I haven’t been eating lunch lately. I’ve lost interest. I’m slowly weaning myself off food entirely.

If I want to get something done, I have to set a time limit. I have to tell myself: I’m going to work on this one thing for the next two hours, or the next two months, or the next whatever. If I don’t, I’m worried I’ll spend years on it.

I said to my friend, “…and when has it never not worked out?” and he said, “I guess that depends on what you mean by ‘worked out.'”

It turns out I’m a worrier. I don’t think anyone would have predicted this.

I like things that are just a little disjointed, a little disconnected, a little confusing. They remind me of real life.

 

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