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January 12, 2002
I awake still somewhat limp and I realize this will have to be a Philipp Glass day: one of minimalism and repeating themes. Yet tooling around the Island in Garrison does not bring any pleasure for a change, merely increasing agitation that on a day when I will do no work, allow nothing to drive me or the pace of the day, there is no one with which to share the day, the drive, the small errands. The coming new moon has cast a dark cloud.
Chocolate and caffeine, my favorite standbys, should see me through the next few days.