Greasy Schedules

The subject draws me to Balzac when all I want to think about is Rasheed Wallace and Steve Nash. It is cold and rainy here today. I have been reading Crime and Punishment, preparing to complete Section Four, my thoughts have been infected with Pekic's Vampire and I know I should be writing more.

My wife and I went to see a documentary last night about the precarious fate of independent book stores. This inspired a lively discussion on the short drive home in the rain. I feel glad to say that I have spent over a hundred dollars at Carmichael's in Louisville since late summer, most of which via a gift card from work. I would spend more at the shop here in New Albany if they carried books of my interest. That sounds selfish, almost snobbish: I don't care. I don't buy that many new books in a year, I never have, except during that Carpentier Deleuze Celine phase.

My goal remains for 200 pages of the Dostoevsky this weekend and I need to post on Letter Three in the Pekic. The lights will then dim next for the opening of 2666.