It's been three days since I left Iowa. On the upside my sunburn didn't turn out to be all that severe and I've been spending my nights painting, which I haven't had a chance to do at all this year - probably not technically true, but I don't think I have painted anything in a while, so this is nice.
The downside however can't be ignored, and with living at home comes the ability to eat continuously throughout the day (somehow the knowledge that most of the world is literally starving to death doesn't keep me from stuffing myself to the point of discomfort) and the regrettable awareness that masturbating and watching television from noon to midnight can no longer be excused as "summer behavior."
I wonder how many of life's major transitions will arrive and pass as easily as graduating. In a sense there's something unsettling about change, but there's also something reassuring about the consistency of experience that is masked in conception of change but prominent in practice.
As for the immediate future, I plan on taking some time to read. After that the work begins.
Also, I heard that writing erotic novels pays great. I wonder if there's a market for emotionally detached stories about awkward fumblings that leave those involved more distant and isolated than reassured by their act of comfortable desperation. The smart money says no.
