It's like I blink & ten days have passed & I don't know where they went.
I have not written anything much lately except in my head. I am mired in the mundane these days, in the lettuce & the forks & the dust motes floating in the air & driving the car to various places that are not exciting or interesting. Life is mostly about trying to cover the checks I write & making sure the dog has lots of fresh water & selling pumpkins in the rain.
I am watching Warehouse 13 via Netflix (I don't have cable channels) & cannot decide whether or not I like it. Disc 2 should be on its way soon. M continues to Netflix movies that ruin my recommendations with lists of cheesy comedies but I forgive him.
The inbox for blossombones is filling up & I must get busy with the reading of poems & the writing of emails. This is the hardest part.
There have been no interesting dreams. Just repeats, like sitcoms during summer vacation.