  Leave it to my education to spark new life into my love of literature. Lucky me, the book list for the upcoming term was released early, meaning yesterday instead of the 18th, the day I would be leaving for my trip. So I sucked up my anxious, hypersensitive depression and drove on out to B&N for a look-see in their stacks. I dont always expect these titles to be carried by a commercial bookstore. But I found a good amount, enough to pack my bags full of preparatory reading, well enjoyed under the warmth of tropical skies. I began one this afternoon. Had a mind to just read the first chapter to get a sense of it, then check out a new one. 50+ pages later, and I realised I was in for the long haul. What a treat! Its Nice Work by David Lodge. Think England in the late 1980s. Economic uncertainty, Margaret Thatchers Reagan-like castration of the university/arts budgets, capitalism vs. holdover idealism of the 60s and 70s. University literature teacher meets shrewd industrial management. Deftly observant prose, laden with White Noise -esque cultural critiques. I think so far Ill call it TC Boyles Tortilla Curtain with an English perspective mixed with a lighter shade of Delillos White Noise .
Im loving it. So three hours of heat-of-the-day sun, and Im just now realising I should save some of this goodness for my trip. Not that I dont have plenty more reading to get through. Although not the entirety of my assigned texts, I picked up the following: Beowulf  Heaneys new translation with the original old English Epic of Gilgamesh Homers Iliad Miltons Paradise Lost and other works Tony Morrisons Paradise (scratched out the part of the cover proclaiming its involvement with Opera) And Virgils Aeneid Still to come involve some anthologies, Norton and Heath. And some Dante, the Song of Roland (I thought I still had whered it go? I read it!! ), and a science text book sure to cost $75 or so. Im so enamoured with my stacks. The best part about moving into my new place? Its the purchase of new bookshelves at IKEA that stand to hold the sum total of all that Ive acquired as a literature major.
I love them. Filling up every spare spot in my room right now, spines triggering memories, the breadth of knowledge staggering. Id like to think Ive accumulated quite a collection. On to things less distracting. Today was creepy, save for the reading time in the sun outside of reality. Decided to crack the beers early to accompany my flight out of here. I had an appointment with the meds doctor this morning. He was late, like 30 minutes, in getting to me. All these asinine statements followed by, do you understand what I mean? over and over again. I was irritated with a lot more than he was addressing before I got there.
But his insistence that I wasnt smart enough to follow him was aggravating. Shit, the guy didnt even know that I stopped taking Zoloft a month ago. Or that Ive been taking those sleeping pills for three months now. Such a waste of time, I feel. You get what you pay for, I suppose. Whatever happens with my employment future, I pray I have better insurance. I drove home as unsettled as I felt when Id arrived. A mixed bag of deep sadness and anxiety, combining into a force of manic tendencies.
I didnt know if my body wanted to scream or sob, so I tried both. Then hit the beer to settle the matter. Looks like Im destined to commit a few crimes tonight before I go. Not to worry though; Venezuela is just a short swim away from Barbados, and of course they have no extradition treaty with the United States. Im rekindling an old, old friendship with my ex-best pal, Kegs. Call me stupid, but Ive been craving a little marijuana high all week, and I know well be able to achieve a mindless synergy with each other. 
