11.28.11
Hiding out in C’s bed with scrambled eggs and a glass of water and wet hair. We are trying to form a plan, or more accurately, trying to find time to form a plan. Need a storage unit, need to get rid of more things, need to scrub down the Lindy: need to organize and pack and toss and clean and shop and modify. His room is unnavigable with our objects: broken typewriters and the inversion table and guitars and piles of laundry and god all my books. All the books. I finished The Honeys Trinity while we were in the Alabama Hills. Just the details left. Just the typographic details. All the excitement about finishing has evaporated; I’m left with cajoling and pleading with myself (baby please get off the Internet; you can have another cup of coffee if you’ll add the hair spaces to Minor Honeys; don’t you want to do the cover today, wouldn’t that be fun?) But all I want to do is obsess about other people online and watch C play video games. Fog at night. Loafing toward winter.
