(no subject)
For no good reason, I feel abandoned: as if I've been writing chatty letters to no-one in particular and pining for an affectionate response. I've gotten out of the house--to teach Friday and today and to see the incredible Van Gogh and Expressionism exhibit with KSG yesterday--yet I feel confined and spectral, somehow. Everythink irks me and I have to talk myself out of my peevishness to get anything done. This listing of symptoms annoys me: it makes me feel astutely pathological, portentously (and pretentiously) self aware --> i.e., Alexander Portenoy in heels and drag...