Ephedrine keeps my eyes open. That’s all I need: My eyes to stay open long enough to finish Plato later tonight.

I have six pages on Gertrude Stein due in 19 hours. Pot keeps me focused, ephedrine keeps my eyes open, and cigarettes keep me breathing.

I’ll have to read Stein during traffic school today:

A TIME TO EAT

A pleasant simple habitual and tyrannical and authorized and educated and resumed and articulate separation.

I look up and the Brazilian traffic school instructor, Jairo Santos asks me, “do you need a piss of paper?” No thanks I don’t need a piece.

Ephedrine also kills my appetite.

College must become ritualized like dinner; I have to convince myself I need it. Go to class, study, read, write, ideas are encouraged, but not required. Just like the five food groups.

Let’s discuss my traffic ticket. I was stopped speeding 73 mph through a 55. After the expected amount of bullshit, the State Trooper handed me a ticket citing nine miles over the limit. I drove off with a half ounce of pot under the passenger seat and finished a joint on the way to class. Shakespeare, ENL 4333, I was seven minutes late. I wonder if Plato would’ve argued against Shakespeare like he did Homer.

My days have become fragments. I can’t remember a thought long enough to finish it.

Most Amoco stations sell 60 count bottles of Mini-Cross, a bronchial inhibitor intended for asthmatics. The active ingredient in Mini-Cross is ephedrine, 25 milligrams per pill. If the recommended dose is tripled, it’s the over-the-counter speed of choice among truckers and college students.

So I’ll get through half my readings, copy someone’s notes, and finish the term with a B plus. Since overachieving isn’t an option.

Jairo Santos said, “choose the path of least resistance.”

Yes sir, I will.