semi-reliable proof that I am not dead
No, not dead, just having a love affair with super-socks. And spending the weekend giving Cass the Jersey tour of my teenage self. We're going to the Hoboken waterfront, we're going to visit cats, we're going to have to find ways to entertain ourselves without poetry for the weekend. This may or may not involve a visit to the second largest mall in America. I have this sinking feeling fairly frequently that the only times I leave the house are driven by a need for poetry. I've slammed twice this week, and it doesn't sound like a lot, but it feels like a pretty big thing. One win, once the runner up; not too shabby. This whole plan of making an NPS team that I've been kicking around quietly seems a little more tangible that I had originally expected.
Now, packing and middle school-esque antics. Also, Burger King.