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9:42 a.m. - Sunday, Dec. 14, 2003
Coffee with Real Cream in It
I know that that stupid death clock has no authority, I suspect that its designers only want to scare people into losing weight, but it's had the opposite effect on me. **sips coffee with real cream in it** In fact, it's as if the clouds of uncertainty had parted and I am getting a nice tan in the sunshine of hope! **Bad Metaphor Police break down the door** A little over seven years! Seven years! Man, I could do seven years standing on my head!

Seriously.

I just started re-reading A la recherche du temps perdu, and yes, this time I'm reading all the volumes (a) in the same language (French) and (b) in the correct order. So that should be about two years' reading for me. After two years' reading and working, I should have enough money saved to quit my job and start writing. After all, I only need to live off my savings for five more years. And if, after those five years, I don't die, I'm going to sue those lying bastards at the death clock site.

Am I nuts? I really have to wonder sometimes. I just have this feeling that things are going to work out the way I outlined above. But schizophrenics have feelings, too, don't they?

 

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