Getting Through Another Day
I shouldn't be proud of this, but it's the self-control I can always maintain:
Today, I ate a couple wheat thins, three sticks of celery, and some broccoli.
And I had a shit ton of tea.
Tonight I went to a panel discussion on Prince Street with authors John Reed, Justin Taylor, Carlos Labbe, and Andrés Neuman. I want to read Andrés Neuman's work. He impressed me the most, even though his English sometimes rendered him unintelligible.
I also realized that I'm much like my father in that I don't give my work time to gestate. I write it and don't want to look at it again. I don't take the time to edit my work. I've always hated editing my own work. My father's like this with his paintings: The longest I think he's ever spent on a painting is four hours. If he doesn't like it, he frustratedly breaks the canvas and jams it in the garbage can, or he lets it rot in the spider-webbed recesses of the basement or garage. This is why no one can comment negatively on my father: he is the only person who understands me so deeply; we are the same person in so many ways.
I told myself I'd finish the rough draft of my New York Language Center cover letter before going to bed. So, onward.
Today, I ate a couple wheat thins, three sticks of celery, and some broccoli.
And I had a shit ton of tea.
Tonight I went to a panel discussion on Prince Street with authors John Reed, Justin Taylor, Carlos Labbe, and Andrés Neuman. I want to read Andrés Neuman's work. He impressed me the most, even though his English sometimes rendered him unintelligible.
I also realized that I'm much like my father in that I don't give my work time to gestate. I write it and don't want to look at it again. I don't take the time to edit my work. I've always hated editing my own work. My father's like this with his paintings: The longest I think he's ever spent on a painting is four hours. If he doesn't like it, he frustratedly breaks the canvas and jams it in the garbage can, or he lets it rot in the spider-webbed recesses of the basement or garage. This is why no one can comment negatively on my father: he is the only person who understands me so deeply; we are the same person in so many ways.
I told myself I'd finish the rough draft of my New York Language Center cover letter before going to bed. So, onward.