I have just spent way too long trying to get a video of myself badly playing the harmonium onto the internet, and I have seen no success. This is too bad, really. Something about extended footage of hands doing something small and repetitive for a while is good and creepy.

Yesterday I biked from Hyde Park to the Instituto Cervantes to see Vete de mí with Margot. I actually have no idea how long the ride is in miles, but it's about 45 minutes alongside Lake Michigan. It's really beautiful, I'd forgotten how much I like biking long(ish) distances. I love Lake Michigan. The movie was good too. It's about a middle aged actor and his estranged son, and lots of getting shitfaced in Spain and trying to talk to prostitutes about the theatre of the grotesque. And catching up with someone you like is a plus.

One day I will be better about seeing the people and places I care about seeing, instead of... what? who knows. I saw a girl checking Friendster in the library the other day, I was oddly startled.

Today I got rejected by my nth attempt at a second job. I'm starting to worrying. I guess it's true, I really do have no marketable skills. I'm not even the kind of clown that does children's parties. Unless your children are really into Greek tragedy or violent interpretations of Grimm Brothers fairy tales.

Last night Margot asked me if I'd been writing much, and I felt ashamed to say no. I keep talking about how being on vacation makes me depressed, how I'm not doing enough and drinking too much and just waiting for time to pass. So why haven't I been writing? I guess I don't know what to say? But that has always been bullshit. Just like it's always been the first day of the rest of them.