Club.

I walked home carrying a guitar neck in my hand. I liked it. I may start carrying a club or small bat. Why don't more people do that? Did they do that in A Clockwork Orange? Or was it a riding crop or something?
I passed a car on my way home that contained a girl giving a guy a blowjob. I'm assuming it was a girl. Law of averages.
The Stills van has been parked around the corner from my apartment for two nights. Maybe I can get a ride to work from them tomorrow when they go pick up their gear.

Please find Becky.

I composed my letter of resignation as I drifted off to sleep. That night, I saw people get hit by subway trains in my dreams. Today, I got an amazing splinter. It was about a half inch, and went in and out opposite sides of my finger. Didn't hurt. I'm going to search for the lights tomorrow night. I need to buy film. Why do newspapers endorse political candidates? How can I take them seriously if the tell me beforehand that they are favoring one candidate over another? I think I'm too sleepy to take a shower or wash the dishes. Sorta hit me just now.

Tonight's lesson.

I have no hot water. I'm taking this situation as the hot water god's way of telling me I should have just stayed out after work and just gone straight from whatever bar I ended up in to my 8am job. I just worked ten hours in wet clothes because of the tropical storm that just blew by, and there's little reason to be here if I can't take a hot shower. So next saturday, I don't turn down the invites to go "wherever." We'll see if that approach teaches me another lesson.

Failure.

I remember, wow, 16 years ago, coming home from work to find K watching the republican convention.
"They're all nazis! Fuckin nazis! What, what are they chanting? Sieg Heil? They're chanting Sieg Heil!"
I think that was during Pat Buchanan's speech.

This election means so much more, and, especially after tonight, I feel we are more doomed than ever.
I didn't even listen to the VP. By then, I was emailing youtube clips to a hurting friend to try to distract her. She probably didn't even look at them, but after my former mayor's speech, I guess I needed distracting as well. He made his points, and, on the topic of experience, I can't really argue with him. I just started to console myself by thinking, "hey, what difference does it really make who's president?" I wasn't planning on ever leaving the country again anyway.

So how should I prepare? The never-ending project of cleaning out my apartment probably won't help the economy. Going to guitar-building school won't stop the war. Working in a comedy club is just a bad idea in any lifetime. Protesting is really just preaching to the choir, and four years ago proved pointless. Living each day like it's your last makes a lot more sense to me right now. I could go out to a bar right now. Or I could just go to sleep. Becca, tell me what to do.