Ugly, Pretentious, and Petty

I am sitting up in bed, in Judi and Paul's bed, using Judi's laptop to write this. I'm tired but I can't sleep and usually when I am tired and can't sleep, I eat. But there is nothing I want to eat in the house that doesn't require effort.

For dinner, I had turkey bacon, two eggs, and green beans. While I ate, I half watched a horrible cable television show called The Housewives of New York City or some such nonsense. This episode featured a decidedly unattractive blonde American woman who was married to an only slightly more attractive Aussie. It was a toss up as to which of them was more pretentious. I wondered what I, the viewer, was supposed to think while I watched this ugly, affluent couple spend sixty thousand dollars in a single afternoon in a clothes shop. They were vacationing on St. Barths. The man complained that vacationing in the Hamptons was "akin to working." I had little or no sympathy.

Later, I had a banana and a pear.

Tonight after yoga, my shoulders were sore. I realized, on the way to and from yoga, that yoga is the only thing I have to rebel against recently--and how important rebellion is to me. And how ridiculous it truly is to rebel against something as innocuous as yoga.

For lunch, I had a piece of Amazon cake--a kind of chocolate cake, perhaps vegan--from the Co-op. I drank a two liter bottle of diet Pepsi. I ate a banana and some soy yogurt. I took a bath.

I am reading a copy of Stay Me, Oh Comfort Me M.F.K. Fisher's published journals. I want to like it because I like her other books so much, but I don't. Even in the midst of true hardship, she sounds pretentious and petty. I'm afraid I would sound the same, perhaps, in the midst of true hardship.

Perhaps.