On Thursday I had cheeseburgers and malts in Newton with my agent Janice. We talked about the novel I'm working on, my demeaning, soul-crushing day jobs, and how , all romanticism aside, really, you can't be a well-balanced person and a good novelist. Well-balanced people to not obsess over every word of 400-page documents about people and events they completely make up in their heads. It's simply the facts. She said, "Why do you call yourself obsessive-compulsive? Don't dismiss your talent that way just because psychologists diagnosed you with that term when you were a kid. That's just their word for what you are." Of course she's right.
On Sunday I had a cheeseburger at the Lizard Lounge for Sean Conlon's feature. I was up until 4:30 am puking and had to call in sick the next day. Simone and Derek had similar reactions to their burgers. DAMN YOU LIZARD LOUNGE! As if your nine-hour slam wasn't bad enough.