Nauseous, nauseous, nauseous...

I've finally got around to start reading The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath), and it's every bit as good as I hoped it would be. Even better, actually! And it's so well-written that I feel like I'm living through everything that she describes. Now that Esther has been food poisened I feel like I've spent the entire day in the bathroom puking my guts out. Mmmm, lovely... And the way she describes Esther's depression sneaking up on her reminds me so much of how it happened to me. Actually this novel reminds me of a book-length version of Regina Spektor's Summer in the City, and I'm not sure why, because the lyrics don't fit all that well, apart from the fact that this girl Esther spends the summer in New York, and she feels lonely, lonely, lonely...

On a side-note, I'm so annoyed with this fly that keeps buzzing around me right now.