I still keep my watch two hours behind

[raybear]

I got to work relatively on time and in addition to meeting with the legal director, I have a huge project to complete ideally by lunchtime but I could possibly get away with early afternoon. Which is a shame because I have long journal entries in my head and I really want to write this story called "Hell Bookstore", though I might make it a personal essay instead of a short story. But right now I can't make it anything because I had to get back to rejecting people.

As I drifted off to sleep last night I was having half-dream thoughts involving making some mix CD to be played before a performance that included an Isobell Campbell song and I was thinking "ooh, cocolola will be happy to hear that" then I started to think about the near hundred pages of Proust I read last night (which let me tell you, that's a LOT. That mofo is dense and I'm a fast reader, but I timed myself at two minutes a page) when suddenly I nearly bolted upright in bed and said aloud "wait, they made a MOVIE out of this book! Those French people are crazy." Luckily I just did it in my head. Then I fell asleep thinking of Catherine Deneuve.

I'm losing valuable data entry time here and on apartment search websites. More coffee!

Comments

[gloeden.livejournal.com]

And it ain't a great movie either.
But it's worth seeing, if only for John Malkovich roaming about as the dissolute roman a clef version of the Count de Montesquiou (I forget what he's called in the book)in a male brothel.