Dear Reader,
Today, the curtains are partly open and I just realized how dark it has been in here the past few days and how I haven’t minded. Astonishing.
Word Raccoon and I have been down for the count with something, maybe the flu. A spring flu? Gross!
We dragged our writing desk indoors today. We are wearing our glasses for the first time in days. (Okay, WR just flung them onto the table. I tried.)
We are focusing on trying to eat “real” food and drink more water, less Coke Zero.
Other than keeping up with writing a terrible poem a day, Word Raccoon and I have not been doing much except watching TV and resting as we have been able. We’ve been sleeping upright. We still sound like a goose when we try to sleep. (I make us sound more pathetic, probably, than we really are. But maybe not.)
We are on the LAST season of a show we never would’ve imagined is our speed, Love on the Spectrum on Netflix. Since we aren’t up to reading yet, this is helping us during hibernation.
Right now, Abbey is singing to David on the occasion of their third dateaversary, and it’s Sob City over here. It’s the sweetest thing. WR says I am going soft.
What’s so wrong with that, WR?
Tomorrow evening is a virtual reading of my grad school alum cohort. I said I will, if feeling better, be happy to cheer everyone else on, but read my poetry in front of my peers? IDK if I am ready for that…most of them will have been trained in poetry.
Two good things happening on the poetry front for me: I signed a contract for a special poem being published in the fall, and received a message that my poetry collection has made it another round in the reading process at a press. Fingers crossed.
WR says she has dutifully finished all her water and is asking if she may please have some more Coke Zero.
Fine, you greedy beast.
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