What outside world?

What a nice feeling it is to be able to rest. I really didn't realize how much the Potarini job took out of me until I finally stopped working there. My long weekend was only remarkable by how much of it I spent asleep. On Sunday night I went to bed at one in the morning, woke up briefly at seven the next morning, and then proceeded to sleep until three that afternoon. I suppose I'm not used to working that hard, physically. Wait, for physically, instead read "at all".
Outside of sleeping, I've been doing a lot of reading. Jane Austen, in particular. I'm surprised to be liking it, and I'm also surprised by how funny it is. At twenty-five, I know this is trite. I have tried reading her before, but I've never been able to sustain an interest past the hundredth page. Stamina issues. Also, she seemed to be a bit cruel. One passage that made an impression on me was from Pride and Prejudice, while describing a mother who talking about her no-good son who died at sea, mentions that "she cried more tears over him now, than she had at his funeral", or words to that effect. I think it helps that I'm reading Northanger Abbey, which is supposed to be a type of parody of gothic romances, particularly The Mysteries of Udolpho, which I also haven't read. What I'm finding interesting about this book is how Austen uses language in order to manifest a person's moral character. Like how she does with the odious John Thorpe, whose vulgarity is made manifest to the reader by his constant splitting of infinitives, as well as his repeating vile saying: "He's as rich as a Jew".
Speaking of horribly feeble segues, I'm also reading James Wood. With all due respect to the Pope, this is the only guy I consider infallible. At least when he's writing about books. I've been going through The Irresponsible Self, and I've been really trying not to run out and buy everything he recommends. My respect for Wood's critical ability borders on the slavish, hell,is slavish. Only a fellow Woodian(?) like my friend Jammy could understand. She claims that he's ruined her for other men, a claim to which I can only say, "Likewise". Jammy, working together we can split him up, and, I dunno, take turns serving him? I hear the English can be surprisingly opened minded about those kinds of arrangements. Good for them.