The next day, the ennui had returned. That is, if I had ennui. I can’t remember exactly what it is. It sounds French and I know that Lou Reed wrote a song about it on the “Sally Can’t Dance” album and it was a pretty sad song so it’s got to have something to do with being bummed out, right? Anyway, if I wasn’t ennuied, I was definitely bummed out. Artie had been at my Sugar Smacks again and I had to have Carla’s waffles for breakfast. But that wasn’t really why I was feeling so bummed. That’s why I was feeling so nauseous. No, this bummedoutedness (that’s got to be a word – especially in this day and age) was because I was feeling lost.
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 