ONE DAY IN APRIL 2006

…I learned that I can still get the hiccups when I’m angry.
…I drew a silver coin* with a bird on it, between 7:40 and 8:10 a.m..
…many things struck me as being one way then, at the same time, as the exact opposite way with maddening regularity.
…the clear cold spring air seemed enviably sure of itself under the noonday sun.
…I wrote the beginning of a cautionary children’s story in my head about something that I now, somewhat unbelieveably, seem to be unable to remember.
…—if I had fangs—I probably would have hissed at somebody.
…I wondered if anyone stranded in the desert had gotten so hungry they tried to eat sand.
…I bought two $110 yellow dresses for $10.56, one shiny, the other diaphanous and pleated.
…I realized I tended to set sex scenes in empty or unoccupied houses.
…whilst writing, I returned to the pseudo-Latin gobbledegook I had hoped to have cured myself of.
…I discovered someone surprising staring at my ass.
…glaciers were mentioned in an email and it felt like a code word even though it wasn’t.
…I rented a very bad Canadian version of “The Hound of the Baskervilles.”
…the noise of a heavy wooden chair made being dragged across the cement was almost unbearable.
…I was late for nearly everything.
*the coin being part of the picture on the left, something I thought of as Bob's failed first attempt at a creation myth