And they weren't even dry when I caught them

I spent a good deal of today reading my own recently-written novel, which is a feeling very surreal in a sort of nauseating way.

As I sat in the Laundromat contemplating whether I wanted to invest a year into a project to receive yet another round of rejections, I also wondered how I would explain another year of unemployed poverty to my friends as I struggle for something "bigger."

And then I went to get my clothes out of the dryer, but it had broken and refused to stop spinning. The very nice laundry helper-people giggled and told me I'd just have to catch my clothes as they spun 'round and 'round, and it was the perfect slapstick moment for my thoughts, with the rest of the world spinning too fast and me grabbing at what I could to make myself feel less naked.