May
12th
Sat
12th
Once he was gone I felt like a lunatic. I was engaging in something deluded and worthless. What was I doing? How stupid a goal could you set for yourself? I suppose I had a dark night of the soul. I had no relation to anything that had meaning. […] I got myself in hand. Not proceeding would be even more demoralizing than seeing where this would come out, even if it was ridiculous. And so to bed.
—
Rush, Norman (2011-10-12). Mating: A Novel (p. 45). Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.
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You guys, now that I can pleasure-read again w/o feeling too guilty, I picked up the old saw and am reading it basically in the way it asks of its readers not to be read, as a variant of the I Ching.
But it’s really good for those nights when you’re up at 4 a.m. Where are my vitamin chews. Where is my Barbara Pym novel. Why does the fitted sheet come undone.
