i went to barnes and nobles today to drop off the application. i did not go until four something because it was such a beautiful blue day out, that i just felt like eating and reading the paper and soaking in some of the light. the brightness making me bouncy and energetic. the pineal gland suppressing melatonin release. i ran around outside for a bit so excited that yesterday's gray skies were gone, replaced by a blue sky out of an allegra commercial or something. so yeah, i didn't leave until four - i drop the application off and then i start driving back home. it is now about five o clock, and i'm driving down route one through old town in the direction that everyone is heading since it is rush hour. in the dc area, it is not rush hour, it is stand still hours - sitting on the same block through three lights before finally making it to the next block only to sit there for three lights.
it is fucking horrible - enough to make an impatient person cry. i am an impatient person. i did not feel like crying, and so i popped born in the usa into the tape deck and started singing along. i sort of got really into brucie bruce, becoming completely oblivious to the fact that i was stuck in traffic - rising above the surrounding chaos. and yeah yeah, what is it frank costanza? serendipity now! damn right, i was on cloud nine, completely spacing out. i realized how oblivious i must have been, when i look to see how much gas i have, and see at least three warning lights blinking on my dashboard. the car's tempature is all the way over to hot and smoke is pouring out of the hood. fucking hell! i start screaming obscenities to my stupid car and then to the stupid cars to the right of me that won't let me get out of the middle lane even though my car is smokin up all of route one like some bad dance with a fog machine gone haywire.
i manage to get off of route one, get onto some sketchy little side street. get out of my car. it's cold and dark. lift the hood, get splashed with steam. wait for it to cool off. walk a couple blocks in the fucking cold (i didn't wear a jacket because it wasn't this cold when i left, i fucking swear). buy some water. come back, pour water and coolant into the thingamajig like the owner's manual said to. wait for the engine to cool off like the owner's manual said to. and then once it has cooled, resume driving with the heat on like the owner's manual said to.
waiting for the engine to cool, sitting in my car on this fairly empty street, so annoyed that i am so reliant on cars. that i, a human, am at the whim of this derelict piece of machinery. and i was just so fucking ready to assert the superiorty of the human form over the entire race of machines by going into caveman mode, saying smashee smashee and wildly kicking this stupid car until the sun rose. but i didn't. i couldn't. i sort of knew that it was not true - sadly, i accepted that the machine's reign very well may be reality. impotence is probably the most accurate word to describe this sort of rage that i felt at this point. in do the right thing, buggin out says: "I'm just a struggling black man trying to keep my dick hard in a cruel and harsh world." and yeah yeah, the assertion of Man over contrivance, that's what this is about - trying to keep my dick hard in a machine run world, when i know nothing about machines.
anyways, i finally get home after getting stuck in the same traffic - make myself some dinner, watch iron chef, and then started reading. i haven't read a book in so long. i have been telling myself that i cannot read for fun until i finish ulysses. today, i decided to scrap that stupid plan, have abandoned that stupid book for a while, and am now reading the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay. and, i'm really loving it so far. okay, i'm going to go read some more.