Post Break Post

      Oh, geez. It's over?
      How can it be over?
     Apparently I am done relaxing until April 20th or so. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted, this limbo.

      "I just thought you'd be fuller, and more metal."
      I got the first rejection letter on Monday, from Minnesota.
      "We don't know if that means he's dead, or just naked."
      That feels familiar.
Lion's head knocker
pages through
magic in the kitchen
from the agency of letters

      The pile of books keeps getting bigger, not smaller. I wonder what to do about that. "Treading water" would be an appropriate cliche for the moment. I suppose I will start with grading the stack of students (represented by their papers) that sits on the ottoman.

      Last night Sharon asked me "When was the last time you really liked a guy?" And I giggled and said, "Senior year."
      I hadn't realized how long ago that was. Must be all the words on all the pages in all the books, making the time fade strangely into other presences. We don't measure time in coffee spoons; we measure in responses to others' words.