I slept for nine hours last night, and I'm returning it now. I think that this is a Bruce Springsteen song I'm listening to. I think my face is stuck in a sad position, and has been for days. I think that I'm secretly afraid to go to sleep because I'm not ready for it to be tomorrow, that's what.

I was reading a book on the subway today and I made a little mark next to a phrase I liked. I've never felt allowed to do that before. When I was a kid I had a sort of unusual operation, and in the book I'm reading a boy has the same one. He had his in the sixties and spent months in the hospital; I only spent a few days, if I remember right. I could have used more time.

I feel like that boy lately, all up and down. It's bad news, feeling like a character in a book.