Up from nap. Still under attack from this belated bug. Thought cold season was through. But anyhow… I’ll be writing the rest of this day. No rain. Done with lunch– grilled cheese (Monterey Jack) and minestrone soup, paired with Ginger Ale. A union that sounded lovely when I woke. Taking care of this clutter, here on this desk, on this day off. Pay a couple bills, count Self-publishing funds.. know this isn’t terribly interesting for you to reader, reader, but I’m just letting you know what my character’s opting to do, post-nap. Yes, I could be doing other acts: staying in bed, video games, watching TV. But none of that contributes to the MS getting done. Look how fast I’m typing.. might as well not brew mySelf that cup that the machine’s poised to make, downstairs.

Was looking through some old Poe writings, and His texts as well, last night. Had several ideas, most of which I kept, and am keeping, in Comp Book, rather than reflexively posting them to this ‘blog’. If I get a section of English 5 in Fall, I’ll bring back Mr. Poe’s work, have him, his genre, in class again.

Have all the money on the keyboard pull-out of this desk. Coffee at right. But I need to leap into showering mindset. Told Self that I wouldn’t touch my book till I posted to teaching blog. I’ll do so when out of the cleansing, reviving water. I’m sure I’ll feel at least a little better, following the hot temperature of those beams.

Oh this coffee… Feel better quick-quick, already. Only after 2 sips. And then, the sun pops through the blinds’ miniature exposures. And yes, “popped” is the word that best suits an elucidation of they just displayed. A little over $400 in the Self-publishing stash. The rest, to Kerouac and Alice, however she wants it allocated. But knowing the amazing mother she is, she’ll take nothing. I’m sure. She’ll put it in the college fund her and I, mostly her, set up for the little Artist just after he was born. Speaking of Kerouac, where’s my book of his poems? Probably to my left, in closet, on that upper shelf. Ridding mySelf of this clutter, from the day’s theme of “Giving MySelf a Break”. So many wish for “big breaks” or ‘a break’ of some kind [much like how I’m waiting for a bloody call from one of these community colleges, which a REAL Artist would never do..]. Why not just give yourSelf a break? Or bloody take one?

Off to my verses. Quite sure they’ll dominate the day, or the rest of it. Alice just called, said it was cold at her school. Lovely to be in this warm house, writing, on break, getting well.