career day. o the irony of three degrees and no marketability. my father has always been fond of pointing out that the classified section does not include any ads for philosophers wanted. the employment options were listed by major. french: peace corps. philosophy: a summer camp counselor position and the IRS. psychology: frito lay, the same summer camp, a methodist church organization and the georgia dept. of corrections. they asked if i was comfortable carrying a gun. i wondered if they were comfortable with me carrying a gun. the food service industry calls my name with a smirk upon its burger serving face. career services suggested retail for a summer internship before i move back to paris....great. i could've done that four years and three degrees ago. will that be cash or check?

writing. i'm doing none. the hardest part is getting of one's ass and scratching out the titter-tap motions of myself on paper. or screen. i'm stuck in a rut. this dedalus is trapped and drowning. i've built my own labyrinth with myself at the center. wings with melted wax, and i'm afraid to fly. no longer have i even the strength to read. la nausée will probably take me a month. the sad fishermen’s nets of sleep take me always. i'll write you. never.