Today is my day off. Today is the day I put my foot down for. Fought tooth and nail to be relieved from floor duty. And by fought I mean whined. And by whined I mean relied on the kindness of others. And, gods bless them, they the others came through. Working a solid week plus with no reprieve is not unheard of or even out of the question. But my sanity was seeping out through my sinus membrane and I was quickly coming up on the point of no return. After a point that stuff can not be regrown so easily.
So
The day is grey again and I love it sitting and listening to the drizzle. I am washing my comforter. I am offsetting the vague trepidation I always get when washing my comforter by putting Bailey's in my coffee. Because I can. I am fiddling with the syntax of the second to previous syntax while my cat violently shoves a book entitled The Art of Syntax to the floor. I am weighing the logistics of going to AWP 2013 in Boston.
I cannot decide today whether I feel pastoral or confessional or cannibalistic. Maybe all three? Necropastoral, anyone?
There will be time to decide. Well, maybe not that much time. But right this moment, I don't begrudge its passing. And that is the best feeling I never even hoped for.
No comments:
Post a Comment