Tonight in class, I realized I had one week to compose a piece I had thought would be on the Salt Lake City graveyard. I really haven't found anything groundbreaking to write about in the graveyard just yet, so I was feeling uneasy. In other circumstances I would be more apt to turn in shit, but everyone in the class will read the piece and workshop it, so I feel like the stakes are higher. Anyhow, all class long I kept thinking if I could switch my topic to something else, but nothing else was really coming across as a better option. I felt locked into the graveyard piece that was still very ill-formed and fetal looking in my mind. Ugh.
I'm anxious so I eat. I got PF Chang's take-out. Spicy almond and cashew chicken with brown rice. So bad for me, but anxiety clouds even the best intentioned diet plan.
Come home. Eat.
My roommate and I discuss what to get my friend for her birthday tomorrow. I suggest we look through my old books to see if she may like one. I bring the stack to the living room. Instead of thinking about the birthday, I remember why I loved all of those books. On a full stomach, I perused the used pages and memories within them.
We cannot decide what to get our friend. Indecision.
It's late. I should sleep, but I can't. I begin googling things. I check the Broken Social Scene page to see when their next concert is on the off chance that it may be at all near me at some point in the summer. One tour date: Ontario, June 8th. I will be in Europe then. I notice on the page a 2007 Kevin Drew album I had never heard. WHAT THE HELL LIZ? HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS? I want to download it but do not have a current credit card linked to my iTunes account. Back to the living room for my wallet.
I grab my wallet, and then stand to look at the pile of books on the coffee table from before. I debate if I should bring them back to my room now or just leave them like the douchy roommate I am. I sit down and pick up The Future Dictionary of America. I read through several entries. Something biological happens in my brain and I am suddenly seeing a dictionary of Salt Lake and I am reading an entry for gentile. I think, what could even go in the Z section though. Duh, Zion. It dawns on me. I will write a dictionary of Salt Lake for my SLC piece that is due next week.
I leave the stack of books on the coffee table minus the dictionary. That comes back to my room. I lay in bed and listen to more of the Kevin Drew album. Eating all that PF Changs was not worth it.