Lately I’ve become very interested in textures and I walk around touching things on the sly. Last week in class I absent-mindedly reached over and touched my astonished neighbor’s knee, curious to see what the material of his pants felt like.
I’m deep into the job hunt now; tomorrow will be my last official day of allowable unemployment. I’ll consider it as a starter’s pistol for my guilt race. I’m beginning to wonder whether I’m taking all this as seriously as I might; I applied for a position in a mortuary just so that I could reference Evelyn Waugh in my cover letter. And you thought this English lit degree was going to be useless.