Signs of spring: The birds are singing loudly in the glimpsy dark, and a powerful odor of skunk hangs over the neighborhood.

I'm feeling a little dull this morning. I've written five sentences to you and erased most of them because they seemed highly uninteresting. As far as I know, nothing much will happen today: I'll keep working on class plans, I'll hang out with Paul, I'll run the vacuum cleaner, I'll write some comma splices. I feel both underemployed and overemployed: which is to say, I don't have any paying work right now but am anxiously prepping for paying work. And I am very grateful for unemployment checks.

Things will change soon. Next Wednesday I'll start teaching my high school sessions, and next Saturday afternoon I'll be leading that protest-poem workshop, and the following week the editing projects will start coming in, and my calendar will fatten up again, and I'll be overwhelmed and panting. C'est la freelance vie.

In the meantime, good news: My cat has not been sprayed by the skunk! I made an apple pie! And I still like the poem I wrote earlier this week!

In the words of Edna St. Vincent Millay--

And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

There's this little street and this little house.