End of the Road by John Barth

So a friend recommended this book to me awhile back, and then later reported on it being one of her favorite books, so I thought I would give it a rent.
She might be upset that this means I will be in the middle of four books right now, but three of them are pretty short :}
Anyway, within the first two pages (and I am only thirty pages into it) there was a section that literally made me stop and smile to find that there was someone, if not the writer, than the written character who, if not in the exact language I use, was going over the same ridiculous thoughts in simple situations as I feel.
Here's a passage:
"Arms folded, akimbo, or dangling: hands grasping the seat edges or thighs, or clasped behind the head or resting in the lap - these (and their numerous degrees and variations) are all in their own ways satisfactory positions for the arms and hands , and if I shift from one to another, this shifting is really not so much a manifestation of embarrassment, or hasn't been since the first half-dozen interviews, as a recognition of the fact that when one is faced with such a multitude of desirable choices, no one choice seems satisfactory for very long by comparison with the aggregate desirability of all the rest, though compared to any one of the others it would not be found inferior.
It seems to me at just this moment (I am writing this at 7:55 in the evening of Tuesday, October 4, 1955, upstairs in the dormitory) that, should you choose to consider that final observation as a metaphor, it is the story of my life in a sentence - to be precise, in the latter member of a double predicate nominative expression in the second independent clause of a rather intricate compound sentence."

I put in bold the most relative part, since, as you have read, it is a rather intricate compound sentence. :)
At first John Barth reminds me of Samuel Beckett in that his speech is amazing to me and I am immediately drawn in by the very life essence of it and taken aback by the complexity of it. I loved Beckett in college, being existentialist, but must admit it was VERY difficult to get through his work.
I feel I will be able to go in small doses with End of the Road, and will be both sad and glad it is a rather short book, full of complicated everyday situations, or rather, everyday situations made rather complicated by the brain in its workings.
Maybe I'll post an actual review once I'm more than thirty pages into it!

Cheers.