Sartre's really not a name to conjure with these days, though a few observations made in Nausea still bear up well. My copy's back home in Leeds, but I do remember there being a passage about time that resonates. As I recall, the point is this: that most of life is spent waiting for something to happen, while only a small fraction of it will be spent living the life, the action if you like, that you've invested so much time in waiting for.
So, waiting for the day to pass. Invigilating at the Generator this afternoon, heading out this evening for some sort of charity event at Dexter's that my flatmate's organized before heading on to DJ at the Art Bar later.
Booked an appointment with the careers advisor next Tuesday. Anything so long as the waiting's no longer done in a call centre.