Last night a friend comped me tickets to the PEN festival opening reading. Salman Rushdie read from DeLillo's White Noise, which convinced me I finally have to read this book.
I look at my phone calendar and feel a chill of horror. I have made too many commitments.
I'm considering a sensory deprivation chamber: you pay $70 an hour to float in complete darkness in water that is exactly body temperature in absolute silence. Something like ten pounds of salt has been dissolved in the water, so you float very easily.