2004-01-02 - 1:20 p.m.

It is 7:30 pm on a Friday night, and I am nailed to this: so many layers on top, that it will be hard for me to move underneathe it all. Chaos pins me to a rock. I need a vacation, but not one where I buy tickets to some exotic island and lay in the sun and go sightseeing and run all over the world looking at things.

In the snow, on my car, I carved a design with my finger, a prehistoric fossilized being, long dead but alive, too, and it made me feel the same.