I slept hardly at all last night, what with all the sweating and nervous thinking, but hopefully that will get me to bed early this evening so I can make it to my new job as an apprentice pastry chef tomorrow. I am very excited, and hopefully for all of us this will mean a return to musings on life, the universe, and everything outside of the tiny corner of it that I and my problems with unemployment represent. (Although the micro/macrocosm will always resist separation.)

I am uncomfortable with the movement towards specifics that's been happening here, because I feel like it causes you to know me in the wrong way, in the normal, chatty, surface-sharing kind of way, while I want the obscure, messy version of knowing that consists of a few details set against masses of opacity.

This is, of course, all caught up with my vanity and nervousness, hesitant desire for intimacy and, really at the heart of it, fear of vulnerability. I insist that the two don't have to be paired.

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