I roughed out the lecture yesterday: poems and prompts and general topics. So that is done, thank goodness. And I tackled a chunk of editing on two different projects, went to the grocery store, cleaned the floors, and even managed to play a game with Paul before he went to work. In short, I'm getting more done this week than I expected to, given the state of the union.

Today: gritting my teeth through my 8 a.m. abs class, and then editing, and then tackling a few more Accident Sonnets. I brought a sample of them to my Monday-evening poetry group, and the other members seemed intrigued with the project, which I guess is the best one can hope for at this rough stage.

I've committed to three exercise classes per week--two abs and one yoga. Physical engagement feels necessary; building strength feels necessary. And as much as I love my mind, I need to give it a breather now and then. Because mostly I drive it hard. Teresa and I are gearing up to start our next reading project: the collected poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay. I'm finishing Swann's Way, resting with Gaudy Night, planning on Lonesome Dove, which somehow I've never read before. I've been revisiting poems by Zbigniew Herbert. I feel kind of a desperation sometimes: I must keep reading . . . I must never, ever, ever stop.