In the late afternoon, I allowed myself one glass of wine and became instantly drunk. Found myself in the middle of the living room singing my lungs out before a roaring fireplace. I was deliriously happy about nothing at all and it seemed so obvious that I should always feel this way, that nothing was so important that I should ever not feel this way. Then, in a span of ten minutes, I fell from total elation to thrumming despondency.

The juncos and black-capped chickadees raise a ruckus around the feeder as the squirrel industriously steals their lunch. My heart feels like gray meat.

January 12, 2006

I woke this morning refreshed and ready for the day (I slept like a log), I was even slightly motivated. I couldn’t write but at least I could move around, do something. Maybe it was the glass of wine. Wine’s good for the heart, right?

For no particular reason, I unfolded the little ladder that drops down from the bedroom ceiling and clambered up into the crawlspace which serves as an attic to the house. When Elizabeth and I were putting this place together almost twenty years ago, we had hauled all sorts of stuff up there. Under the bare lightbulb I recalled that Elizabeth had carefully stowed away boxes of my research, manuscripts and books under the eves. Perfect place for them in case of a fire.

Good old Elizabeth. The cardboard boxes lay just as she had arranged them, in rows, labeled and sealed. She was in her supportive mode then. She worshipped my work. And so they waited for me. Carton after carton. I attempted to wrestle one box down the ladder but it was too much for me in my condition. How had she gotten them up here in the first place? I descended, gingerly. I’d had enough exercise for one day.

I should have it carted away. The accumulation of my life. What am I saving all this for? The museum wing that will house my papers? Fuck me. I was exhausted. I’d lost my appetite altogether. Couldn’t even piss. I took a nap.

January 13, 2006

I’ve phoned Leon five times in the past week and today he finally returned my calls. Pretended to be very positive about A Gentle Death, then immediately changed the subject. Insisted I should take it easy. I wanted to query him about sales, but if they were any good, he would have been the first to tell me. I didn’t ask him about Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp. Lots of long pauses.

After a particularly long pause Leon dropped me onto hold, then returned to say his daughter, who recently graduated Brown, was on the other line and he had to take the call. Yeah, right. Whatever.