Well, it's a Sunday. And I'm suffering from a serious case of cabin fever. It's totally self-imposed as I lack any motivation to get dressed and do something with myself. Which is quite sad because I've been lucky enough to have the whole past week off. I did manage to go socialize with some friendly MoMA peeps last Monday and then spent lots o' time with Mark on his days off. That was nice. But otherwise I find myself scared to go out. Because when I do I am tempted to spend lots of money. Even though my idea of lots of money isn't probably as large as others. And I don't have to pay rent or anything. But I've already went there.
I did manage to finish reading the behemoth book The Story of Edgar Sawtelle (see Past Reads: 2009 list). It was my major goal for my week off. It was really good. Surprisingly it had a 'mystical' aspect to it. And it was way sadder than I thought it would be. Though I must admit it did start with a melancholy feel to it. I totally recommend it to you out there who enjoy curling up with books.
I thought about applying to other jobs out there but I feel the strong need to wait until after my San Diego trip in April. I mean what if BY SOME FREAKING MIRACLE a job called me in for an interview? I don't want to get so close only to be denied because I'm taking a week away in California. That would suck. But at the same time I'm fully aware that the chances of me being called in for an interview are minute. Tiny. Teeny. But I can dream about getting a new job, right? And then cry. It makes me sad because I know it will never happen. (Monkey? Heist? Anyone?)
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