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Thursday, Oct. 01, 2009 - 7:44 a.m.

It's cold out, but I refuse to close the windows. As long as there's a day in the week with temps in the 70s, I will nto close the windows. Not all of them, anyway. Right now it's 43.

Just read (finally) Bartleby the Scrivener. Interesting.

I wanted to say, I think my brother is Bartleby the Scrivener. But he isn't as quiet about it, unfortunately. And he complies with requests just enough, just often enough for some people to think he now prefers rather than prefers not. Not quite as steadfast as Bartleby. But he does keep on doing what he prefers to do, even if it will drive him to the grave. I don't know how he is still alive. He's back to drinking mouthwash, which he can get at the dollar store. I want to buy him a generous gift certificate to the liquor store to speed things along a bit. I feel bad that I feel like that; nevertheless, I do feel like that. Shit or get off the pot, son-- conclude your business.

Sometimes friends of mine who drink a lot joke about being alcoholics. I think, no. No, you're a long way from there.

Didn't mean to be such a bummer this morning-- I'm really not in a bad mood, it's just on my mind a little. Finishing Bartleby required that something be said.

Oh, the thing-- the curious present my mom sent-- it is a business card holder. She thinks I will put it out at my shows. Um. Bless her heart. (I've been getting a lot of mileage out of that expression lately).

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