Today is gonna be the day that I throw it all back to you

I haven't been blogging much since I moved into the new apartment, and I feel like I owe you an explanation.

Problem is, I don't have much of one. I've been busy and exhausted--physically and emotionally. Teaching, dissertating, being a homemaker for myself, mostly. Still figuring things out. Putting up new mailbox to deter mail thieves. Doing laundry at a laundromat for the first time in years. Walking further to get my coffee. Making apple pies for Misscellany. Making fried rice for Miscellany. Grading stacks of papers. Being upset by old friends. Reaching uneasy points in relationships. Filing police reports. Being tired a LOT. Sleeping less and doing more.

Etc.

I haven't written a poem since I moved into the new place. My tiny office space, however, seems conducive to writing the dissertation. I've produced about ten new pages in the past three weeks or so. I made some lovely green curry last weekend, but forgot to photgraph it. I've watched every episode of "Undeclared" about three times. I've received a lot of social invitations, but they all fall on the same day, so I've been seeing fewer people that I'd have liked to. I feel like I'm disappointing others.

There are two leaves thumb-tacked to my corkboard. There is a poem. There is a Canadian twenty dollar note. Flowers. Big wind. Wireless internet. My joints ache. My face is beardy. My weight remains low.

Today someone told me I looked nice in green. A four year old sang along in the car to The Ramones and then requested David Bowie. "Daddy, play the David Bowie song that mama plays."

Modern Love.