…THIS week has crawled along painfully slow as I attempt a re-entry into the real world. This means that I’ve been trying to write from a noisy room while construction occurs on the rest of the basement, trying to do 3 weeks of work (barbering) in one week, trying to do 3 weeks of laundry in one week, trying to listen to 3 people at the same time, trying to listen to my new cd at the computer (Serena Ryder’s latest) (the post title is a line from “This Wheel’s on Fire”, a song written by Bob Dylan and nicely redone by Ms Ryder, and the title of the new cd) with my new headphones because I stepped on the old ones (I didn’t hear it happen because the sound of the whirling saws drowned completely the sickening crunch underfoot), trying to figure out how to get the cd that’s in the car stereo unstuck (all part in parcel with the fact that I left the car lights on for the first time this year (which is great, because last year by this time, I’d left the lights on approximately 5 times) and the stereo does strange things after resuming power, say, like eating my cd), and trying to figure out how to work a tab/right hand margin for a table of contents in word ’03(blech).
So yeah, things are pretty much rolling normally along.
One month and counting to my trip, and I’m excited to the point of buying out Winners just in case I need something for the trip.
Yesterday I had the good fortune of being told by Ariel Gordon that the one of my poems had been shortlisted for the February ‘s Guardian’s Poetry Workshop with Aidan Andrew Dun. I’m pondering his wonderful comments (which is the nicest part of being shortlisted) and curiously contemplating what he means by metaphysical. My customer survey today was asking people what they thought metaphysical was, is, or could be. No one is quite sure what, why or how it is. Hmm. That’s the nature of the world I guess. How metaphysical is that?