REJECTED

A depressing day at the office writing and mailing rejection letters, during which
- it hit me again and again that book publishing (like most cultural industries) can be so cold, so heartless, so money-minded an industry, rewarding marketability over artistic sensibility
- I resolved not to become jaded (probably in vain)
- I tried and tried but failed to craft a letter to a man who wrote to the editor (my supervisor) from county jail on a brown paper bag; was thoroughly distressed and heartbroken
- I had to go to the bathroom in order to take a nap in a stall because I got so unbearably sleepy after lunch


But redeemed by an evening out with my fave canadien Dan Faria, during which
- we ate til we (well, at least I) wanted to puke
- we developed a newfound distaste for Ben & Jerry's (problematic temp. control resulting in ultra-melted oversugared products)
- I vowed to myself to 1) never eat again; and 2) sign up for the gym within the next two weeks
- I then admitted to myself that these vows probably will not be carried out