I'm going to go, I bought a ticket. Gave my two weeks.

I have taken a Sudafed and am going to go for a run now. I am not as fit as I should be.

Reading the start of Moby Dick where he talks about how he gets a little crazy right before deciding to go to sea.

It's a drizzly November in his soul, and he has to prevent himself from knocking the hats off of passersby on the street.

Lately I have been less patient on the sidewalks, less cool. I don't know if it is a drizzly November in my soul or if I am still getting over a hangover from Sunday night.

Feel like going from manhattan to the bush to manhattan to the bush is ridiculous. Massive cultural gaps traversed. Kind of wish I had one solid thing a little more.