I sleep so much now. I wake up like a fisherman, but I go to sleep like farmer. When I'm at home after sundown it is a real struggle to do anything that isn't getting into bed. I'm in love with sleep. I slept the weekend away again, so I spent this early morning doing odd chores to make up for it. I took the wheels off of the chairs. I have these two armchairs that are... ugly. They are ugly in the worst saggy, leathery way, but I don't mind it. They're good for sitting in sideways, which is the way I prefer. They've been on wheels, and I can't even get to how that came to be, but I've finally undone it. Now I can reach my legs over the side and touch more of the floor, and that is more pleasant than I know how to explain. Now the chairs can relax, all settled in for winter, and they can forgive me for keeping them on edge for so long.

You know, the more I think about furniture the more I realize that everything in here looks like it wandered in from the middle of someone else's life, and that's not necessarily untrue. I've been collecting the sorts of makeshift odds and ends that sometimes make me feel I'm in a life-sized diorama. In some ways the inside of this room looks like the inside of my head, though there are a lot of things missing. I guess I have time to find them. If it turns out that life is only the convoluted process of making life-sized dioramas to represent what the insides of our heads look like, well, that's okay with me.

Other things:

1. My faraway robot boyfriend has been replaced with a Swedish woman, and while Sweden is undeniably a part of Scandinavia, it is not what I want for my Sunday evenings. It is just so unfortunate.

2. I gave right in to daylight savings this time, and it's alright, but every once in a while I look at the time and then up at the sky and think, "You're a liar. I know what time it really is."
a. This is problematic because, while daylight savings completely confuses me, I suspect that we might be in "real time" right now, and that spring and summer are when time and the sky get together to lie. Luckily, it doesn't matter whether I'm right or not, because I'm being ridiculous whichever way you look at it.
b. My VCR sets its own clock. It's old and beat up and makes unsettling sounds, but it keeps right on top of daylight savings. It always puzzles me, but this year was especially good because we had daylight savings later than usual, and somehow the VCR knew. It is made of magic, or the future, or something. It's a Sony.

3. The marathon is always one of the best things that ever happens here. There's something so strange about all of those people just running and running for hours, down all kinds of streets, over bridges. I like it best when they're in Brooklyn and Queens and come down streets without too many spectators, when it seems less like a race and more like they all just started running without knowing why, and now they don't know how to stop. All you hear are their feet and their breathing, and somehow they remind me of ghosts, running as fast as they can to a haunting or to heaven, or wherever ghosts run to.

Now I have to check to see how many stars I had today and whether my evening is going right.