Real toads sold separately.
What is it about procrastination that makes it so delicious? I mean, this is really my only vice, but it (almost) gets me into (almost) trouble sometimes. I am getting things done, but not the right things. There's nothing depending on whether or not I finish this chocolate granola bar, for example. I have so many books piled on my desk it looks like I'm building arm rests.
What I really need to do is sit down with my calendar and force myself to freak out. Why is that so hard?
Sara is back in town, so now I can stop missing her posts. She seems to have a few of the same books that are on my desk right now. Could it be Craft & Theory of Poetry: First Books class she's thinking about?
In one of my other classes--upper level undergrad + grad contemporary American poetry--I'm trying a new assignment and having folks write a lyric essay in response to the readings. There are just so many analytical essays one person can read in a semester. Do you have a favorite lyric essay? I want to give some samples.
I do not recommend working out while listening to the following bands: Mazzy Star, Cocteau Twins, The Sundays. You will start looking for comfortable corners to fall asleep in.
Seriously, my syllabi are usually fourteen pages long. I don't know why I do this, but I can't do it any other way. Last year I started making a nifty grid for the dates, and I will definitely do that again.
I did finish yesterday's Monica poem. I'm not 100% happy with it, but I think that's because the last few I've written had pretty good endings, and this didn't feel quite as gripping.
Okay, off to plant a few toads.