I think I had a dream about a puppet that looked like Pat Sajak. I'm certain this was creepy & unpleasant. It's possible his face appeared in a partially melted stick of butter. I suspect this dream means I should be more aware of reversals of fortune, but I'm way overdue for an upswing, anyway. Hah. Recent tarot readings suggest I will find security & succeed in overcoming certain obstacles. I am my own worst enemy. I am held back by my own fears & etc...
I have yet to figure out ways to be hella organized & astoundingly awesome. Basically, this means that I need to scrub my shower & clean out the fridge. I made my favorite salad for lunch today (roasted pears & arugula!) and ate a smidge too much because I have no self control & besides it was salad. Salad is like free calories. Eat as much as you want. I like to pretend this salad does not contain highly caloric ingredients like toasted pecans and salty slivers of fancy cheese. After all, these things are garnishes. Garnishes do not count.
I am hoping to finish reading submissions for blossombones over the next week or two. I'm about halfway through the subs (plus there are a few I'm holding on to for a second reading). Writerly things keep slipping into future time. I'm attending to life's minutiae. I wish someone would come over and make me a lasagna. With spinach. I like spinach.
I took Z to a job interview today & I waited for him in the car. I heard two songs that appeared in The Wedding Singer & I wasn't even listening to the 80s station.
Last night I tried for the millionth time to get M to watch Blade Runner. And he fell asleep. As always.
Man, Harrison Ford was all kinds of hotness in the 80s before he was a smarmy old man with a creepy-ass diamond earring. I am going to pretend they are two different people.
Blood Pudding Press's Pushcart Prize Nominated Poems
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