More and more I’m breathing less and less.

Finally finished A Son of the Circus last night. I think that book claims the distinction of longest it’s ever taken me to read a single work. I can’t believe it was Memorial Day weekend that I started it. But it definitely was, because I distinctly remember starting it on the Chicago trip. Damn, and here it is mid-August! And it wasn’t because I wasn’t into it. Quite the contrary, it was an engaging and satisfying read, and I’m glad to have soldiered on. Classic John Irving—even more bizarre than A Prayer for Owen Meany. I’ll never understand how he comes up with—and researches—many of the things he writes about. This one touches on subjects as wide and varied as India, circuses (per the title), dwarfs, genetics, AIDS, different degrees and levels of transexualism, huge dildoes, murder, prostitution, immigration, Bollywood, religious evangelism... I could go on and on. How could anyone not want to read a book like that?

Started reading Wicked on the train this morning. I think that one will be a much quicker read...

I’ve been so crazed lately. When I got home from work yesterday, I realized that I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d returned to my apartment while it was still light out, let alone eaten dinner there! You know, when I moved from Brooklyn to Manhattan several years ago, one of the many advantages I cited was the fact that I wouldn’t have to eat out so much, because I’d have time to go home and eat in the evenings before whatever evening plans awaited. Ha. And so my wallet continues to get slimmer and slimmer, while I, no doubt, just get fatter.

Speaking of which, the marathon training hasn’t been going as well as the last time I did it. I’ve been having so much trouble fitting my runs into my life, which makes for some pretty miserable runs. Oh, I do them. Anyone who knows me can probably guess that life's insanity is not enough to keep me from squeezing in my training. But that’s the problem—all the squeezing in. A 20-mile run is no picnic, let me tell you. And I can’t even begin to explain how much worse it becomes when you’re squeezing that 20-mile run in between various (and numerous) obligations. After which, said obligations are also somewhat unpleasant. And rest assured, when something is unpleasant for me, it is equally unpleasant for everyone else involved.

Kidding. Sort of.

So the goal (I know I say this all the time) is to forcefully take the time I need for myself. From now on. Before I end up hurting myself. Both the body and the mind suffer from overuse without the proper rest and recovery, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had enough of either. The last thing I need is to break right now.

To that end:

Reading. Writing. Watching awesome things like Wonder Showzen and Jackass on DVD. Sleeping. Lots of sleeping.

Anything that tries to divert my attention from these core activities will be carefully considered on a case-by-case basis. Um, after this weekend, that is... Yeah. This is another crazy one, which will consist of a rooftop party on a friend’s roof, a 20-mile run (followed by sleep of the dead), birthday party at my place Saturday night (lemme know if you wanna come), followed by entertaining of the parents on Sunday, followed by dinner at my place Sunday night, followed by catatonia.

Should I survive, the above-mentioned lifestyle changes will take immediate effect. That is, after my trip to Austin.

Goddamn it.