days of less annoyance

William S. Burroughs was a strange man from what I know of him. My brother had me read Naked Lunch and I found myself thinking I could write a novel if that incoherent work was considered such.
I read it once. I read it around June 9, 1996. I'm not sure when I started it or finished it, but I know I was reading it on that day because I like 9s and 6s. I think I was reading it when I got a call to hang out with a Jamie. I had to pass on hanging with her a week or so earlier because I was heading out of town. She was as my high school graduation and called me afterward. I hadn't seen her since we paid our respects to Justin Hughes in May of '94, a day I dreamt of before he passed. Anyways, I think Jamie called me on a Wednesday which would have been either the 5th or the 12th. I was a slow reader and it was a slow read.
I mention Burroughs and Jamie because they seem intertwined in my mind. I liked Jamie, but never thought of myself in her sort of league. She was more mature in her world view I guess, or at least seemed to be other worldly in my simple naive mind. She had a boyfriend, but it wasn't like I thought of my hanging with her meant anything beyond finding out what her end game was. I had nothing better to do, and was wondering why she'd care to call me when no one ever called me. I wonder if I'll ever understand. I'll ask her when it doesn't seem too rude to do so.
Anyways, I was thinking of Burroughs the other day and looked up stuff and read that he'd had a number of uninteresting jobs that would seem beneath him. I imagine his family and friends thought he was nuts. I imagine that he didn't really care or was too scared to try to be something more. For he had talent and was doing nothing with it.
My job has been annoying me of late, but tonight it sucked less. It's just a job that pays the bills and doesn't define me.