"What have you been up to? What's new?"

How the hell is my life? I realized today that I have no idea how to answer those questions. I always have to think about my answer, deriding myself for a while before I blurt something out. Whatever I'm doing, I only ever feel a collision and a flurry of activity. I lack that degree of external perspective of self and I just don't have a prepared elevator speech. If you ask me what I AM doing, I can tell you: I am using the excuse of not having summer clothes to go shopping. I am dousing these two crickets in calcium and multi-vitamin powder and feeding it to the gecko. I will lie here on my belly for a long time until it eats all of them. I am reading Norwegian Wood and let's just say that HM has really developed his storytelling abilities since then.

But I notice that I always start out my conversations with those questions. Poor Ethan - I think it drives him crazy, too.

Perhaps I am just anxious because no one else is off yet?