Paul Muldoon read tonight at Housing Works. I stayed for a while, but the guilt I felt was too great. Or maybe it was too much to listen to someone who spoke so slowly. My brain just isn’t that patient right now. I hurried home to work more on my writing. It’s official: I’m the last person in my class to upload my manuscripts for workshop. Sigh. Maybe next semester, I’ll be better. Probably not.I’m taking tomorrow off to finish up my second piece. It’s got to go out, no matter what.
This is an official apology: Hanukah gifts will be late. Sorry.
New York has gotten a bit colder, but I still love it. Everything’s better here, and I’d love to expand on this, but writing beckons.
Thanks to Aimee, I’ve begun a jumping jack regimen, which is a nice way to end the day, but doing them kind of makes me feel like I’m in prison. I guess I sort of am until I get through with this frickin’ story.
Grocery list (hopefully this can happen tomorrow once writing is complete):
Bananas, cherry tomatoes, carrot juice, soy milk, apple sauce, soup, tea, cereal, carrots, spinach, tofu
Plus I need a brow wax big time. And a hair cut. And black tights. And a new printer cartridge. (This is what happens when I never allow myself to leave my house.)
Music: Ray LaMontagne
Obsession: Dagoba Xocolatl (Hot Chocolate w/chilies and cinnamon)
