You know how sometimes you could have woken up at nine, or ten at the latest, but there was something that disturbed your sleep cycle, fully woke you up for a period before you were ready to be awake, and so you slept later, until eleven. This occured today. At eight, I woke up, my bladder ready to absolutely burst. I ran to the bathroom, where if someone had not been in there taking a shower, I would have been able to relieve myself and fall back asleep before waking up all the way, doing all the motions in a state of half-sleep. However, Dara was in the bathroom, sho-sho-showering away, singing while doing it, and I went back to my room, and waited to hear that bathroom door squeak open.

I remember Hans telling me a story once about how he peed in the sink once while his roommate was showering. I thought about this and went into the kitchen. I looked at the sink full of dishes and decided that I did not want to have to move all those dirty dishes, and that I am also not Hans, that he is the type of person that can pee in a sink and see no problem with it, but I have certain notions of what is acceptable and what is not, and well, peeing in the sink fits into the what is not category. I don't want to be that type of person, I would like to be a little more liberated, but the truth is that I am not, I could pretend and pee in the sink, but I would feel so disingenous about it.

So back to my room, and waiting and waiting on the edge of my book, trying to read this David Wojnarowicz book but failing to do so, because all I could think about was my bladder. Finally, I heard that squeak, and ran into the bathroom, peed for what felt like two minutes, a constant stream, and then went back to bed, and of course I was not still going to get up at nine. Not until eleven because there are sleep cycles that really I could not tell you much more about than that, that there are them and that I had to go through one.

I just read the first installment of Dave Egger's new satire, and I am going to wait to tell you what I think until I read more installments. I have to go to work shortly. I get to leave early today though. Yesterday at work, I answered a question for Adam Yauch, a real live Beastie Boy. Things like that amuse me, to collapse those notions of celebrity and distance. That this short, gray-haired man before me made all those rocking tunes, that all these other people here also have secret histories, talents, and it ain't no thing, or it is, and that is the mind blowing thing - so many people, so much potential. I am so fucking lazy. Eleven!