830 AM – up at 640, pills, shower. i dreamed of school for the first time in i don’t know how many years. i had to give a twenty minute talk about a subject i’d not studied for at all… how cliche… i take a cucumber, sweet pepper, apple. 

on the drive i see, in front of a chainlink fence guarding a dusty gravel lot dotted with yellow machinery and dead trees, an electrical box painted all over with bright flowers and hummingbirds. i suppose this decoration was initially intended to disguise the ugly green box, but in its current surroundings the paint only makes it stand out. strange bright colors amid rubble… 

the red car is gone today. the lot is fully empty. i keep imagining that i see rain. there is some kind of motion in the sky out there, like a fine mist falling down. but when i go out, hoping to feel it on my skin, i find that the air is as hot and dry as usual. 

11 AM – the not writing is weighing on me heavily today. i need a project. this lack of anything to work toward is depressing me more and more. can’t i just pull something out of the air like i always do? can’t i just start? not anymore, apparently. i feel impotent. i feel weak. was my last book just a fluke? perhaps i am not meant to write novels after all, but only rambling blogs and chaotic short stories. 

3 PM – what have i done today? nothing. what have i dont today? everything. but at least the weather is cool. 

8 PM – on the way home i meet S at the supermarket and we do a bit of shopping. potato chips, soda, other nonsense. while waiting in line there are two women and two children in front of us. the thought enters my mind, i know not why: i wonder if those two are a couple. then i observe them, trying to determine why i thought that. they are both perhaps in their late thirties (one could be younger) both thin, attractive, both somewhat tall. they are not being affectionate with one another, they are not dressed in any particular way that might say (to me at least) homosexual. they are both adorned with myriad tattoos, but so what, almost 40% of american women have tattoos. so why did i have that thought? i don’t know, but as the cashier is scanning their items and encounters a separation between two piles on the conveyor belt and asks are you together? one of them (the younger, i think) says brightly and proudly: we’re married! despite how clear it was that this is not what was being asked… so my intuition was right, somehow.