Grades due 5/30. How am I going to get that done? Tomorrow, or Thursday morning, afternoon.
10:15pm. Back from dinner with Mom & Dad. Sipping night’s cap, Little Sumpin’. Working tomorrow, on birth’s day. Doesn’t really register with me, honestly. I’ll be looking for material, running with co-worker after shift. Have written quite a bit of verse today, pen2paper, Comp Book. Nearly surprised Self. Can’t wait to try the new coffee machine Mom & Dad me gifted tonight, tomorrow. Think I’ll try one of the more artful types. Have to look and see what came with.
Jack, feeling much better, from his little feverish episode at Mountain Hawk. Must be teething. I don’t care how much he does, I’l never be used to, desensitized to, comfortable with, his cries. Frankly, as I’ve to so many said, I’d rather have my ears cut off. Everyone tells me I need to toughen in this matter, but it’s more than difficult for someone like me. I’ve never loved something, someone– anything, as much as little Kerouac. And I still have a life to go, with the little critter.
Grading.. not my favorite part of teaching, as you may have b4 read. But I have to do it. Have to drink a bubbly water in a minute or so. Not letting tonight’s pours ruin my run. 34, running against a 30 year old, weighing noticeably less, and in better condition, tomorrow.. have 2B ready, fully.
More music, after this “post.” And I can’t wait. From writing all day, on paper, this typing manner feels stoically strange.. estranged. My lectures, brewing in brain for semester next. Faulkner, Plath, Capote, Carver maybe.. Poe, Wolff.. so many authors I want to use. But, the shorter pieces. Standalone collection. No bloody novels.
My new coffee maker, just waiting in the hallway, for morrow’s early rush.. Jack and I, down here, understanding our days’ intentions. Calming mySelf, as the wine, this Sumpin’, starts to me catch. Running tomorrow.. need to think of what I want from it. And it’s simple: writing material. Something to log– How surprised I am, how well I did. Something to that table.
On a note completely separate: the news, promoting fear of mountain lions, as if they’re some invading force. And of course the reporters, at their prestigious wart-warped wobble of a desk can’t interject, as they read from a card. Like Vonnegut said, their kind are trained to reveal nearly nothing about themselves– they’re 2B concerned with the who, what, where, when, why, how.. basic grips. No expressiveness. But I have to ask, “Doesn’t anyone else see how horribly wrong this is?” Want to move, I’ve been lately thinking.. relocate, for K’s sake.
Mood, elevating, finally. Don’t want to be shrugged in religious lavatory visit. […] More fear mongering with Mountain Lions, on news. “Make yourself look large…keep your children indoors.” OH, that’s good. Those lions are invading our land, as you know. Now I’m annoyed, and do need bed. Hopefully I’ll dream not of she, but those new coffee profiles awaiting me. [5/28/13]