Welcome To My Bed

Not burned, but I'm on fire.


I spend quite a bit of time doing a whole lot of nothing, but I have to say, it is time that I verily enjoy.

At work, just like last post, bored because nobody ever needs a reference assistant. They set up a blog for us. They keep emailing me to join. It's so strange that my job is encouraging me to spend my time poorly.

It is soggy outside, and I am trying to ignore it. All I want to think about is good vibes, so that my birthday presents from the homestead will be in the post office when I go looking for them after this double shift. I want mail. I miss getting mail. My compulsion to tear open things with stamps on them makes me order far too many things online.

I ache to register for a Jan Term course. I want to do some kind of intensive workshop, one that meets every day and forces me to write, kind of like what the Hoot was supposed to be last year during January, except that it wasn't like that and I ended up quitting while I was not ahead or behind, just frustrated. This Tuesday is a slam, and I still have zero poems memorized.

In other, non-me-related news, Foggy came back, so now it is again possible to read Cardinal ramblings whenever I deem it necessary. I will be pre-ordering Ryan Adams' book in the coming weeks, and getting a signed chapbook of his poetry because I am so over-eager to be inside his brain.

I also need new rain boots, especially in light of this weather. The leaves are changing and it's awful slippery out for a Friday.

Gotta go read some more of Shakespeare's (supposedly) funny stuff, and finish up some Woolf. And type up the inserts for my book, because it needs grafting and rehabilitation if it is ever going to walk again. I also need to find some professors who actually want to help me on my educational journey. I have a month. I think I can make it happen.

My guitar is finally tuned, and now I will learn cords, and later I will write songs. And hopefully the calluses will work themselves out.