Yesterday I made my way through about a third of a friend's poetry manuscript and revised two short essays, and now this morning I'm feeling pleased with myself for having made something of the day, even in the midst of uproar.
Today I'll work more on the poetry ms, and I guess I'll probably have to go grocery-shopping as well. Blah. It would be nice to have an oven again. My powers of invention are beginning to wane, and I'm getting tired of stovetop everything.
Oh, well. I am not going to repine over such a minor inconvenience. To paraphrase Alice: I've seen inconveniences compared to which this is an oligarch's yacht. [Yes, the sentence structure is just as awkward in the original.]
No exercise class this morning, so I don't have to rush around trying to get all the house chores done before I torment myself for half an hour. Actually, the torment is getting more manageable. I won't say that I'm having fun, but I am getting stronger.
I'll leave you with one of my Accident Sonnets.
Accident Sonnet #4
I tried on a new linen shirt and then
spilled tea on it. I put on my old
clogs and staggered down the stairs. I
stuffed work pants into the washing
machine but forgot to hang them up.
I boiled six eggs and they
cracked. I let the cat in and I
let the cat out.
Three seagulls circled above me. Their wings
cut the sky like harrows.
of those days
is tinged with blue.