It's pretty late and I should go to sleep almost 1:00 a.m. The logic around this dictation is probably that as of late I've taken to talking more to myself and it's perfectly understandable since I don't have anybody to talk to. I feel like I want to talk it through, so I talk it to myself. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. The words come out and they hang in the air. You could say they make it real, but it's not real anyway. And I've undoubtedly produced hundreds of pages of the same old nonspecific intellectual claptrap. The fact is I got a shock and I'm trying to process it. I am worried I'm not going to be able to sleep, I will wake up at I don't know 4:00 a.m. and unwillingly relitigate the whole thing.  Tried to work on music for a bit, but then I couldn't concentrate. Got up and watched Jaws, a movie that I'm not really affected by. It's gory but who cares; I don't really worry about it giving me nightmares or anything. It is kind of a stand-in for getting a jolt, you know? And if I can survive these periodic jolts, maybe I can absorb a blow and then just go on about my business. As I get older though, it's less and less funny. There's nothing really amusing about the prospect of all kinds of catastrophes—losing your house, running out of money, being unable to afford to take care of yourself. I've been through some horrific stuff and came out the other side of it but I was so much younger. I had energy. I had my whole freaking life ahead of me. I had my babies to care for. I had the welcome distraction of theater. This doesn't really feel very profound or original. Maybe I was caught up in some idea of my own personal uniqueness. What a laugh.