Snapshot: Day of Rest

Oy motherfucking vey, what a week. Been running Fat Camp for my buddy here who just broke up and wants to drop the pudge. Tennis in the sun and then hill sprints and then stairs. Then icy beer on the streets afterward when we should be hydrating. Sitting there with the sun lasering cracks into our Scream-mask white guy faces. I feel shriveled and drained like I’m in Shelob’s web.

Sunday. Recovery time, as mandated by the Bible. At 2 p.m. I wake up sleep-drunk at the French one’s place. Get to the train station and I’m dodging Mormons. Barely-hatched all-American Ken dolls dressed like Jim Halpert. You see them lock onto you and you understand how girls in clubs feel. You are being hunted. Maybe you can get small and Bourne-slither into an emergency stairwell. Too bad this is real life and there’s never actually an emergency stairwell around. Though if I lived in a movie and there were just a bunch of emergency stairwells everywhere I think I’d always peek inside. And when I did I would find like a dozen breathless spies crammed in there all hiding from bad spies, or from Mormons.

I consider procuring a coffee but now that I have a book out I think of currency as Books. That coffee would cost me 1.5 Books in royalties. If you want to go insane you should publish something and then calculate how many Books every pack of gum or bag of almonds sucks up. All the Books that evaporate every time a friend says “he’ll get the next round” but then he leaves.

I get back to my little mountain town from Seoul. All the train people walking out with me are bowed over their phones. A position that makes them look like they’re about to be shot in the back of the head. Lots of yawns. North Korea is threatening annihilation but there are zero fucks given down here. I think everyone would actually welcome it. Vacation is over and tomorrow morning we all go back over the falls. Back to work. But now that I realize I get paid something like a thousand Books a month to teach these kids the color wheel it’s like, shit, why have I ever been wasting all my time writing.

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