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Monday, November 12, 2001

i am out of breath.

my feet hurt, my hair is fly-away, i hate my clothes - i buy new clothes and hate them too . . .i had no idea thanksgiving was next week. i haven't blogged since 9/11 . . . i don't seem to have a social life - i haven't returned personal email in well over a month . . . i'm moving again . . .leaving the loft to move in with sophie and her brother, sean. this will consume this month . . .i haven't read a single word in a single book - although i did manage to go through four saks fifth avenue catalogues yesterday tearing out pages with the idea of christmas shopping . . .shopping i'll never have time to do . . .i cannot believe it's november again . . .this time last year i was thin, my business with my current client was just beginning - warm and full of opportunity . . .i was traveling to san francisco . . .from boston . . .and i didn't owe anyone email . . .and i wasn't out of breath . . .

i was in rochester last week and hardly saw anyone . . .got sick . . .and felt consumed - couldn't sleep . . .

it rained hard today and felt cold . . . wore black to work and ate soup for lunch . . .felt less out of breath . . .i hope i still have friends when all of this is over . . . i am well aware that my priorities are screwed . . .but i get scared . . .scared that i'm going to fail at my job . . .scared that - at this stage - i don't have anything else to be good at . . .i'm completely uninteresting - i don't do anything but work . . .and when i'm not working - i'm fretting about not working . . .today i sat in a meeting wondering . . . in ten years from now will i remember this and think - i'm so glad i worked that hard when i was 35 . . .boy, did that reap a great reward . . . hmm . . .

i am going to save money like it's running out for good . . . and then i'm going to leave . . .go to the west coast of france . . .learn a new language (you know, immersion and all . . .) get thin again drinking red wine for breakfast and write, write, write and write some more . . .and when i'm not writing - i'll be reading . . .until my vision is blurred . . .i have never wanted this more desperately in my life . . .

whew . . .just thinking about it . . . i can catch my breath . . .

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