Perfect Life.

I said last night to J. that if I had more money, I would probably drink a lot more. I was saying that my idea of a perfect life would be to have enough income that I could get up in the morning, read the paper, putter around until noon, then spend the afternoon writing. At about 5, have a beer or a glass of wine and start cooking dinner. Eat at 7 or so. Then maybe a few nights a week, I'd go to the pub on the corner and find out what everyone else has been doing all day.

So, more or less, not including the underlying financial anxiety, I'm leading my ideal life right now. The only thing I don't really do is go down to the pub. Because there is no pub. And even if there were, I wouldn't have the cash. Maybe it's good I'm so broke all the time, because I would eventually just become a fat drunk. And I would start sleeping all morning. And go straight from reading the paper to cooking and drinking, skipping the writing part of the day entirely.

Thank god for poverty.