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2002-04-23 | 10:44 a.m.

Samuel Pepys diary available unabridged from Daedalus for fifty bucks. Eleven volumes; the only complete edition. I want it so bad I could spit. But if I had it, would I read it? I don't know. I buy lots of books and never read them.

Turned in my Truant assignment moments ago. Late. Jasper came to me last night, said he couldn't sleep without me. Duff said, "I'll wake you." That's the last thing I remember. Duff says he came to get me, but Jasper was restless, and I said I would stay to calm him down.

I just can't wake myself up when I'm already asleep. Not anymore. If it were a real emergency, maybe. But I can't get worked up over things like I used to. I love to sleep. When I woke up, to tell you the truth, I didn't even remember the assignment, much less that I was late with it. What woke me was a nightmare, a morningmare, about being on an airplane with the new Middle East envoy and looking out my window to see the plane dropping precipitously to the water. Then, up ahead, a dock full of warehouses and no runway in sight. My stomach dropped into my bowels. Took me a while to feel normal afterward.

If I find a therapist, we will talk about this, this nothing-matters state of mind that endangers my livelihood, my reputation (such as it is).

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