This afternoon, as I was holding a cold compress to my lower lip, hoping that my toothache would go away, I found the following handwritten note that I thought I’d share with you:
Patient shows signs of chronic self-loathing and repeated hyperbole. Patient spent most of afternoon session talking about a writer named Dave Eggers and revealed closet fantasy of writing novel and having it eviscerated by Dale Peck in a metropolitan newspaper. Patient repeatedly used the word “ass-fucking,” alluding to the New York Times, and insisted upon accessing my laptop so that he could “blog.” Continues to make vague references to “tramodol” and “penis implants.” Despite medication, patient shows no immediate signs of recovery. Bipolar condition is chronic and [illegibile word]. Recommended course of action: more tricyclics.
Your description of your collapse is making me laugh out loud. These posts seem so Woody Allenish Hannah-and-Her-Sisters hypochondriacal; I’m expecting many pictures of you waiting on line to have your blood pressure checked.
If repeated hyperbole’s symptomatic of a serious illness, I’m doomed!
“more tricyclics”
With all of the meds they’re giving you, it’s a good thing they’re keeping you off two wheels.
Funny stuff, Ed. Thanks for the needed afternoon entertainment, even if some of it does hit a little too close to home.