why kill time?

My stomach hurts. I shouldn't eat rice with curry sauce so close to waking up. I am writing this blog entry to pass the time until my stomach stops hurting. I am at work. I am about to eat a few Rolaid chews. They taste a little like Starburst candy.

I went back to being a vegetarian. Maybe a week ago. I did it so Tao Lin would like me more. No, that's not why I did it.

A large amount of books are waiting for me at the library. I went a little crazy and ordered too many at the same time because I am afraid that I will be heavily fined soon. And if I do not pay off the fines, I will not be able to check out books. I wish the mailman who removed my library books from the mailbox had walked the five feet it would have taken him to return them for me.

I guess I'll stop watching television and movies until after I finish reading all the books. I only watch television and movies through the cable company's on-demand service, through downloads, and through streams on the websites of TV networks. I watch too much. If the first season of a show is really good, I will continue to watch additional seasons even if they are weak, hoping they will once again be as good as the first season. This only happened one time: Lost. My Achilles heel free time-wise is that I love serial stories. Reality TV and sitcoms might be shit and clog up the airwaves, but there's some good serial shows floating around.

I wanted to pick up my books from the library this morning. But I felt weird. I did not want to drive because I felt the same way that I did before I got into my car accident. I felt that way most of last night. It sucked. I did not do very much last night. I hate wasting night's off.

Last night, I woke up and went with my roommate to a diner. We met his friends there. I ate a Spanish omelet, which I did not like. I ordered it because I really like the words "Spanish" and "omelet." I wanted to say them out loud to the waitress.

I went home. I had a kind of absurd literary argument with Mike Young for forty-five minutes on g-chat. He's doing a reading tomorrow night. I will go if I can force myself to wake up three hours earlier than usual, but that is unlikely.

I read some stories for Bust. I accepted two. One solicited and one out of the blue from my favorite writer.

I'm faxing the proof approval form to the printer tonight once it gets kind of late and less people are likely to come in the store. I am waiting because the fax is in the back room.

So the new issue should be out in two weeks or so. It has taken longer to put out this issue than any other issue. About nine months. The issue is cursed. Hopefully the next one will be more timely. It is looking promising so far since we've already accepted two stories for it. The submissions will open again after the new issue comes out. Submit, human.

I was just interrupted by a customer. He wanted to fill up his car with gas. I got a head rush when I stood up. Now I feel weird again.

I need to force myself to go to sleep earlier. I need more sleep when it is colder outside. I need to admit this to myself so I can have a better quality of life when it is cold outside. But I always get preoccupied with things and go to sleep late.

It feels weird to type "late" since I go to sleep in the afternoon.

Back to last night: I started feeling weird after reading the story by my favorite writer. It was long. It hurt my eyes to read it on the screen. I should have printed it out. It kind of destroyed my brain. This is when I started to feel weird. I couldn't do anything productive after. I had planned to proofread some stories for my grad school writing samples and edit my admissions essays. I guess I'll do that tomorrow night.

Instead of doing those things, I watched a movie on demand. I started to watch Hitman, but it was stupid, so I turned it off. Then I started to watch a Christopher Guest movie, but I wasn't in the mood for it, so I turned it off. So then I watched Jaws, which I liked a lot. But it started to drag while the characters were floating around in a boat and trying to kill Jaws. It was very slow. I got bored. Maybe the slowness was supposed to make it more suspenseful. But I was tired, so it made it more boring. I turned of the movie with the intention of picking up where I left off in the near future.

Then I started to feel a little better. I proofread a story because someone solicited one from me, then I sent it.

Then people started emailing me at the same time. I emailed back. I received new emails every few minutes. It was like I was instant messenging with multiple people at the same time, but with email. I got kind of caught up in that. And that's the reason why I'm tired right now.

Last week I was at work and thought, "I wish all the babies in the world died right now at the same exact moment." I felt bad about thinking that. I wish death upon people all the time. I'm a bad person. I cannot stop myself. Sometimes I get into stupid religious-mode and think, "God is going to totally fuck me up because of my thoughts. My afterlife will not be any fun." This is another reason why I like to work the graveyard shift. There are less people to see. Less people to wish deaths upon.