Is it silly or ungrateful to ask the universe for fewer revelations? Because I feel like I'm about a week behind in understanding what's going on, and basically what's going on is that I have been feeling rather proud of myself for getting by and moving along, but I am really not accomplishing anything. The closets I vowed to organize over the summer? Even messier than before! The weeds I promised to pull? Raging. And I'm not even going to mention the poems, or non-poems, or the meandering.
I did take some nice pictures this weekend, though. And I've read more this summer than I usually read in a year (mostly fiction and nonfiction, for fun), so that can't be bad. But I fear it's Time to Buckle Down in a big way, as in: learn how to write poems with the kids home, and clean those damn closets. I will not even get into what we've been eating, because summer food on a budget is not the healthiest, though we are earning A+ grades for produce consumption, so that is a good thing.
The poem-writing might be easier if I had some kind of series or project, but my series concepts are a little willy-nilly right now. I was describing to Eric tonight that the best quality of my most recent poem (written today, because I forced myself) is that its lines are very symmetrical. I guess this means I need to try again, and again, and again.