monday songs: before the morning, steve damstra; don’t carry it all, the decemberists; sycamore street, folded light; passing afternoon, iron and wine.

I’m lurking at Think, waiting for a plug to be freed. It’s sad how much of my productivity hinges on such a thing.

Wanderings below 14th street today with JB. I read a  blog post last night about how changing one thing about your routine can revolutionize everything, so I’m trying to be more flexible. So far, the only productive thing that I’ve done in the last two days is become obsessed with this Decemberists album (so good I can’t even take it), and start listening to these guys.

I have to write so many things before Sunday, when I leave on yet another Israel adventure. I of course have the same trepidations about this trip as I always do, but yikes, I need to get out of New York for a while. It’s strange to feel that way, because every time I leave it, I feel a little traumatized. D said to me yesterday (on his 27th birthday), “You know that if you leave, New York will still be there. It’s not like you’d be getting a divorce or something.” I have a feeling he’s said that to me before. It reminds me of a line in a Nields song-“Tell me I’m beautiful, I promise I’ll believe you this time.”

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