1/20/16—

1,345 words already, after class.  In office hour.  More driven and propelled than I’ve ever been after a first meeting (especially a 7:30AM English 5).  Keeping entries short, all has to be in book— all thoughts and writings and notes, everything.  Starting to feel like HST’s narrator in Fear/Loathing/Vegas.  Wonder if I’m thinking everything I write, or writing everything I think, or can do either especially with how tired I am.  Maybe I should just put this in the book, too.  This post.  Why not.  I’m an adjunct in his office hour that he forgot to mention today, the first day (probably cuz I was so tired and over-caffeinated reading through the syllabus), but I’m here and in character— no, not putting in book.  Just know I’m thinking about it.

Tired— tired— the coffee’s not working anymore.

Shit.

Trying to somehow remold or “channel” as people say this exhaustion but, yeah, it’s not working.  All I can think about is taking a nap, laying down and closing my eyes.  But I have to work more, typing in this conference room and the chair walks by doesn’t say a thing to me and why would he, I’m just an adjunct.