9-17-01 M 1:57 PM

No one will want to read a book that complains about America like Jim does. Whatever. I need a drink. I have to get straight home to babysit when school ends in half an hour. I’ll eat when I get home. I’ll be riding my bike. The market dropped. Who can think? Argh. I typed fifteen minutes on the laptop. Read the newspaper. We ate at the Pantry Saturday morning. A cel phone rant at the table of brown-skinned foreigners, Latin or Arab. “Johnz,” Reg asked, echoing my thoughts, “Is that Spanish they’re speaking?” I strained to listen. It was Spanish. They were not suicidal extremists who had just gotten the call to pull the cord on the bomb in their backpack. I’m going out drinking tonight. Shoot some pool. Where? There is nothing else? Maybe if I turn off the radio. Turn off NPR. Whatever. Ugh. Arg. Ackfuck. I think maybe if I didn’t curse so much, God would not allow so much horror into this world. Rosh Hoshana starts tonight. Florelle called from the supply shed as I was heading to my car on Friday. She said, “I’m not gonna tell you who, but someone said she wished she would have married you.”

“That’s embarrassing,” I said. “I’m not even going to try to guess who.” Maybe this unknow party would like to give me a handjob some time, though.  Just kidding, honey. Lately, I crave drink when it’s not around; then when it is, I don’t want it. Thirteen minutes until the bell rings. I have to put the homework on the board. I have to pay the phone bill. Shall I fill out the mentor application” I have to send in confirmation for a salary point workshop on Saturday, October 13^th. There’s something after school Wednesday, too, at Le Conte Middle School, wherever that is. I’ll rad a few pages of the Guide to LA Lit Agents, though it’s a waste of time. No one will consider my manuscript until it’s finished, and I’ll have forgotten everything by then, or the info will be out of date. Still, maybe I can lay myself a foundation for understanding the business. I lack stamina anymore. My lungs, legs, hands, and wrists are all achy. I’ve become weak. I’m sick of kids.