Monday, January 5, 2009

Some people write blogs that lots and lots of people read, that they even earn money writing because so many people read them and then somehow it works out that they get paid. I don't really understand it. They sell ads, maybe. If I wrote every day, today's entry would be something like: I am eating Nutella out of the jar, without even bothering to put it on anything, which seems gross. The whole thing is gross, Nutella is gross. For some reason it's available in the most understocked, out-of-the-way little grocery stores around this part of Mexico and for all I know the whole country. I'm scraping the curves of the plastic, getting out the last curls of it, feeling like my head has been hooked up to zapping electrodes for several hours. My sinuses seem to be reverberating. I am fully in the present. Past, future--equally inaccessible. This is an occasional side effect of childcare.

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