oh really?
i'm eating cereal because there's nothing else to eat here and i don't feel like another bar of dark cooking chocolate. i've watched a movie, done laundry, made phonecalls. and i rehearsed my paper in the office, this afternoon. i felt like a talkmaster, i felt good. i think i'd be a good talkmaster, very talkative, asking questions that sound incredibly intelligent when they really aren't. that's how i do things anyway. make them seem incredibly intelligent. but the truth is, i'm just a master of disguise.
so the cereal's gone - what do i do now? rehearse again? will i be overdressed if i wear a tight, pink skirt to hold my paper tomorrow? when the thing is: this one time i really got into what the paper's on. it's about a director. with a really unspectacular name, i really don't know how i got into him and his life. his films are too long. and they're political.
i'll be happy tomorrow evening, when everything's over, when tuesday let's me go to bed and wait for wednesday, which will not be very different from today or tomorrow, but just another day. why does the following day always seem so much more promising? and why do i keep thinking, every day: i'll do it better tomorrow. i'll buy that nice mirror tomorrow. i'll write her a postcard tomorrow. i'll wear my purple stockings tomorrow.
i'll wake up tomorrow.
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