Well, you can't just decide to turn off parts of who you are for the sake of convenience. Or, you can, but it won't work right. The part of you that is the secret boss of everything will only mistake turn off for turn up, and then where are you?

I make such big deals out of nothing, the sorts of big deals that last for weeks and weeks. I'm feeling more sensible today. It has to do with the sound of the heat, I think. The sound of the heat is the best sound in the world. It sounds like a soft scarf around my neck. It's probably filling the room with some sort of secret poison gas because my African sleeping sickness is back, but I don't mind it. I'm sleeping about a thousand hours a night. What's really happening is that I'm waking up ridiculously early every day. Fisherman early. By about ten o'clock at night I start to feel helplessly sleepy and when I eventually get into bed and close my eyes it's because I just can't remain upright, can't hold my eyes open, and it feels so easy and wholesome and good. Instead of moping through my worst hours I'm dreaming through them, and it makes everything easier to take.

Last night Francis wanted me to meet him at a Halloween party/show, but there were too many umlauts involved. As far as I remember, I've never refused an invitation on the basis of umlauts before. I didn't have a costume ready anyway. I don't know what to be tomorrow, but I don't really care. I think I'll just get dressed in some things that feel like too much for most days (too sparkly, too much like a cape) and go over to Francis' so that he can help me figure out what I am. Probably someone from the future or space or a dream I once had. Francis is saving my fall this year. He's saving it with his other haircut and other eyes, he's saving it by having a temporary crush on Cape Cod to go along with my temporary crush on Other Sam. There's hardly anyone better to sit around and moon over crushes with. I've been feeling for a while like I've been making the wrong impressions, like I've been misrepresenting myself as the wrong kind of no good. I don't mind someone thinking I'm no good, but it should at least be for the right reasons. Francis knows all of the best and worst things about me, with about ten years of accuracy, and that feels good. The problem with me, I think, is that I just take too long, and not enough people have the time.

I still read my horoscope, though sometimes I forget until the day is nearly gone. I don't believe in it, but I like to pretend. I like seeing the stars and receiving advice that barely means anything, advice that I never take anyway. Today I'm supposed to have a two star day. That sounds alright. I'd like to think that the stars I don't use go into a star pool, and one day when I really need it I'll get a seventy-five star day, like some kind of law of the conservation of stars going into effect. If that's not the way it works, then I just don't want to know about it.

p.s. Get excited, you have five stars today.