Well, I’m living in Los Cabos. I am three and a half weeks into a six-month lease and I barely have enough money for this month’s rent. Not to mention food. But pressure is a procrastinator’s best friend. I chose this life and I’m gonna make it work. My ambitions consist of merely surfing and surviving, and even then, only when I feel like it.

I’m reading Moby Dick and becoming more and more convinced that I cannot write. The other day I was researching Comparative Literature programs in French and Italian, when I realized that I’ve been studying Spanish, on and off, for 13 years and I still can barely speak it. There is a certain relief in humility, though at the same time it is tragic. Wave goodbye to those fruitless day dreams and cut yourself some slack. Surf and survive.

But Mexico is good. Sometimes I don’t brave the bright day, except to buy a gallon of water and some Mexican gummy bears at the corner store. The candy and soda are so much better down here. And its a good thing too; without drinking, I’ve the sweet tooth of an eight year old. And it’s about time I was on the water wagon, although I still wake up hung over. I suppose I’m simply not a morning person.