It's early in the morning and it's raining. I should be asleep right now, but I've had a shock of energy this week. On days like these I usually like to stay under the covers a little bit longer; the dark smudge of the sky is like an extra blanket. And still, I'm up, writing. I'm not complaining. I'm only wondering if I'll be able to go back to sleep after I'm done here.

Everyone around me at work is stressed out, and I'm feeling it, too. I think that's part of the reason why I'm extra alert this week. As I have just two weeks left to develop a proposal and wrap up my site, most of the people in the surrounding offices have just two weeks left to launch two really big sites. I can't help but grab a bit of their tension. I'm sort of excited for them, though terribly, terribly glad I am not in their shoes.

Also I finished a book last night, which usually throws a little flame under the synpases. I have been punishing myself for a month with Tender is The Night, telling myself no, you cannot read any other books until you finish that one. This was making me miserable, though I didn't realize just how much until I "accidentally" left Tender in the office last weekend. I'd now like to take this opportunity to extend a big thanks to my subconscious for taking care of me - yo, Sub, you're the best! A weekend away from the pressure of reading that book opened up a whole new world to me.

I read Angelhead this weekend, and I can't recommend it enough. I know what you're saying to yourself, do I really need to read another memoir about someone's drug-addled, schizophrenic family member who essentially destroys everyone who loves him? Every damn day it seems like one of those books is popping up at your local Barnes and Noble. Well, yes, you do, because it's great.

It's totally shocking, as in "Take a deep breath because you didn't expect that to happen." shocking, not as in "I am calling my local representative because this must be stopped!" shocking, although, come to think of it, you might be incited into some action after reading this book. It's also deeply emotional and affecting, but not in a chick flick sort of way, if that's what you were wondering.

I stayed up well past 1AM on Sunday night reading this book, and finished it last night easily, after devouring huge chunks of it on the subway. I was having a battle with myself on the subway, because I really wanted to stay up late again reading it, but I just couldn't wait to see how it ended. When I got home I only had fifteen pages left, and had already read the climax on the subway.

Sitll it was good though. A delicious meal of creative non-fiction - that's hard to come by these days. There's plenty out there, but very few are worth your time. I'm going to finish up the rest of my recent gifts next: Cherry from Miss S., and then Girl With A Pearl Earring from my mother. And I apologize to the ghost of F. Scott Fitzgerald, but you're holding me back, baby. There's a plenty of characters floating around who aren't self-involved, over-privileged, sinfully attractive ex-patriates, and I'd like to get to know them. I might have a little more in common with them. Hey you know I'm still going to read Gatsby every year, right? I still love you, baby. I just don't love all of you.

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