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stephen hero I'm not overly surprised by how much my paper consumed my thoughts over the past few days. To me it was important, because it made me think which is what I need more of in life. It isn't that often that I get to exercise my mind. Now Yeats may not be my favorite poet, but I think that I came to understand him a little better by having to pour over the same poem for days. I have to admit that poetry has always been a problem for me, but I hope that I am getting better at understanding how poets can push the use of the English language. If they are any good, they can manipulate words to a greater degree than most people and trying to discern their meaning becomes more of a struggle. Now as to whether or not my professor thought that I wrote a good paper is another matter. The next book that we'll be reading is A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and I was the only one in class who had said that they had read it before. It was in the summer of 1996 when I read it for the first time. I was living with Tracy and would read a little here and there after I took Christopher to daycare. As to how I found the time to read such a book when there were so many other things going on in my life at the time is beyond me, but I did. For about a year or so after reading that first book I was obsessed with James Joyce. His stuff amazed me and I wanted to read as much of it as I could. The Dubliners went down easy, but I struggled with Ulysses and Finnegans Wake still has yet to be completed by me. For about a year I tried to read a page a week with a group online, but there are just so many different layers that even at that pace I found it all very overwhelming. ... To celebrate the return of the sun and a warm breeze, I grilled for the first time in weeks this afternoon. It was something simple and relaxing. Something tells me that these kinds of days will be seen less and less as the end of the year draws near. Soon the madness of the holiday season will be here and I won't have the time to linger outside and watch the clouds go across the sky as the grill does its thing. ... When I got into work, Ann was much more animated than she had been on Monday night. Somehow I think that a lack of sleep was a factor here. On Sunday she had gone to sleep at four in the afternoon and did not wake up until one thirty in the afternoon on Monday. She had close to a day's worth of sleep to keep her going. This time all that she had was a mere five hours of sleep to keep her alive. The difference in her personality was very noticeable. I'm not trying to say that I prefer a sleep deprived Ann over a wide awake version, but there is a definite difference there. Then again the same thing could said for me.
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