At night before I go to sleep, I usually read awhile in bed and have a cigarette or two. I generally move through life in a sleepy fog, and when I’m in or near my bed this fog gets even thicker, so I tend to occasionally leave random items from this nightly reading session in bed with me and sleep with them. The morning I threw aside my covers and realized I had just spilled the half-full ashtray across my quilt because I had slept with it all night was particularly gross. I even momentarily considered quitting, as the whole scene was way too flophouse.
Anyway, I am currently reading “Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters/ Seymour: an Introduction” by J.D. Salinger, who likes to use ginormous words that I don’t know offhand. He tosses them in like they’re just another “and” or “the” (don’t remember if he always does this, it’s been awhile since I read anything else by him). I’m beginning to think of him as a bit of a vocab show-off. In any case, I am too stupid to know a lot of these words, but I am also the type who really needs to understand every nuance of what is being said. I used to just assume definitions from context, but I recently realized that this method had led me to completely mis-define the word “non-plussed,” among others, for my entire life thus far.
So, since I’m a dork and have always enjoyed reading through the dictionary anyway (though apparently not with the same gusto as old Salinger), I have been frequently consulting it during my nightly reading session.
It was no surprise, then, to realize this morning that I had slept with my dictionary. I know, I know. How slutty.