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Ben, Ben, Ben. I just went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, clearly for the first time since rolling out of bed, down the stairs, through the garbage and cats that dot the pavement in my neighborhood (East Egg eat your heart out!) and my NASA t-shirt is showing right through my baby-blue-and-red-striped button down shirt. And I’d just gotten out of a meeting with my boss, where I was sipping coffee from my NASA mug emblazoned with the same insignia. Can you taste the egg? The egg on my face? From all the way in Mannahatta?
He didn’t mention it, but he must have seen.
Today will be 70 fucking degrees. At such long last too. I mean, the past two weeks has been like a winter relapse. Ice on my car? April, man. Don’t trust her.
As you know, I wired 8 channels of my custom made lighting grid last night. I listened to relays clicking at incredible speeds. I typed things and made high voltage electrical outlets dance. I was the honest to god damned Lord of All Creation.