I hate flying. Hate it. Tomorrow I have to do it all by my self for the first time in a year and I'm dreading it. Dreading it enough that I am sitting here awake being worried when I should be sleeping since I'll have to wake up in about 5 hours. Bugger. When I get in this state, I can (and do) worry about everything from whether I need to start using anti-wrinkle cream on my eyes to whether I have some inherently horrible trait that will one day cause me to end up all alone. Right at this second, I am worrying about the fact that when I get back to Los Angeles tomorrow, I have to actually start working on this new direction I'm trying to go in my life, and that's terrifying. However, I have doubts about whether I will be able to solve all the issues behind this at midnight while sitting in my high school bedroom. It's times like these when I most need to sleep and when I most unable to.
Oh yes. I found my French cookbook at a little antique store in Elk Rapids, Michigan, where my family has a house on a small lake. It's a perfect book (though smelly) and I'm enjoying just reading the recipes, which is something new for me. Maybe I will read about how to cook the perfect egg, and that will lull me to sleep. Worth a shot.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
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