Too mellow to write much. I just took a BATH, which should amaze everybody because I never take baths. Notice that I didn't say that I never BATHE, which is an entirely different affair.

I turned off all my lights. I poured scalding water into the tub. I lit two candles: the enormous Virgin Mary candle that I got in the Mexican Foods aisle of Rainbow Foods and my cute little Pier 1 candle that smells like something Asian and sexy. I turned off my phone. I disrobed. I plunged in. I sighed.

And now I am so relaxed that I can barely raise my hands to the keyboard. In fact, why am I even bothering? Hmm.

My creating writing class started last night with no great ceremony. I'm sure it will get interesting, but the first class didn't do much to pique my interest. We only get to bring in two pieces of work over the 12-week session, which is sort of disappointing to me. The teacher seems fine. The room seems depressing, and my fellow students seem... eclectic, to say the least. At least it's a good mix: a lawyer, a criminal investigator, a bartender, two "floral designers" who dress entirely in black (I can't even begin to imagine what their arrangements must look like), and a few unemployed people. I cracked up when I entered the classroom because, having arrived a bit early, I was ready to start up a conversation with somebody, as is my nature. Leave it to a bunch of writers to surprise me: everyone was hunched over their notebooks, scribbling away on the paper in an obvious attempt to avoid human interaction. As if to say, "I'm a writer. Can't you see that I'm writing? Don't talk to me--talking is passe. I choose to write everything instead. I must suffer for my art." So I couldn't even make eye-contact with anybody, much less speak to them. This could be a long twelve weeks.

In other news, I have been extremely dehydrated recently. I fear the worst--I think I'm getting sick. Don't worry your pretty little head, however: I drank five glasses of orange juice today (no shit) and ate an entire pizza. So now I'll be sick and fat! As long as you're going to be miserable, you might as well do it right.