As usual, I spend New Year's Eve with my dignity in tatters. The difference this year is that me and my tattered dignity will be doing a little soft-shoe at Jeb and Neela's party, and K. will be there and Big Mike is going to drive up and visit from Delaware.

I guess I could go into the money problems I'm having, but what could possibly be more boring? I might have to get a second job to be worked on weekends. Like, working at a grocery store or something. Mostly because the universe is designed to keep seastreet from doing one thing at a time, ever.

I'm sleeping on my floor in a sleeping bag and I've had this obnoxious cold ever since I got here. I don't have a phone or internet access and my rent's going to be late and soon I'll be without a truck (or worse yet I won't find a buyer and I'll be stuck with a truck I can't use due to not being able to pay for the insurance) and I'm stuck driving/walking five blocks to a payphone to contact my friends so if I don't contact you do NOT heckle me about it.

The only nice things is my life right now are my friends, K. (who I watched sleep until four in the morning last night because I was hoping that by staring at her for long enough late enough I might figure out why she puts up with me,) and Harold Brodkey's Stories in an Almost Classical Mode which I read in college and am rereading and it should really tell you something about my mood that such a bleakly unpleasant collection of stories is among the highlights of my week.

Anyway, happy New Year.