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October 22, 2014

It’s been so long since I had a really good night’s sleep that I’ll probably have to go to bed at 8 p.m. tonight, to catch up. (Last night, despite the rain, and despite needing to wake up at 8:30, I went for a walk at 1:30 a.m. Arrived back home at 2:15 a.m. Went to bed, then, couldn’t fall asleep.)

In 2014, I’ve read 180 books all the way through, and (at least) another 46 partially. I will not get anywhere close to as many books as I read in 2011, 2012, or 2013, but I’m okay with that, because this year, I wrote gobs more poems than any other year.

I also spent gobs of time on Twitter this past year. Until Samhain, I’m fasting from Twitter (n = 267 hours). Amazing how much emotional energy that has freed up. I do miss seeing what the people I follow are up to; conversing with my favorites.

Rain most of last few nights, all day today. Supposed to clear up and be sunny & 60s Friday and Saturday, before cooling down again.

Felt so amazingly significant that I dreamed about Persephone yesterday; was sure that’d be focus with P today, but there was so much other stuff, we barely glanced at it.

Feel lost without writing poems, but I need a break from intensity and focus of poetry. Looking forward to lying fallow for a while.

May have to rethink plan to write a blog post every remaining day of 2014. Writing this often, my thoughts feel choppy and disconnected; they haven’t had time to coalesce into coherence. (Maybe that’s just the effect of the sleep deprivation.)

So. Very. Sleepy. It’s 6 p.m.

Gasoline today was $2.999 per gallon. Weird. I’d have to dig up my old checkbook register to see when’s the last time it was under $3. Because of the rain, my drive down to Prince George’s County — normally 60–70 minutes — was 84 minutes. Seemed a lot longer because traffic on 695 was averaging 15 mph; once I got to 97, I was back up to 60 mph.

Feel like I’m on the brink of understanding how to do my spatial-dispersed photography-visual poem project. Frustrating at how elusive it’s been.

Dreams this morning contained the following elements: catalpa trees; travelling through Wales on a train; Myfanwy Jones. Don’t recall the narratives. I actually did travel through Wales on a train once. It was overnight, so there wasn’t much to see, but I stayed awake (with some effort) because I thought being in Wales was so cool.

Spouse and I are going to do Early Voting later this week, a first for both of us.

It feels like a million years since I got mail from someone I actually wanted to hear from. And now that I’m avoiding Twitter, most of my emails are junk I immediately delete.

Dancing baby elephant.

I need to wash my hair. Lately I’ve been using vinegar (1 tablespoon in a cup of water). I also need a haircut.

Our welcome mat is really ugly, I’ve (only recently) noticed. To call it a “muddy” color actually insults mud. It’s more like bile-colored. I don’t know where Spouse found it, but we need to get a new one.

This is like one of those days where writing morning pages just seems pointless.

Counting things soothes my anxiety. Putting all my pennies into rolls over the weekend was unexpectedly enjoyable for that reason. And I ended up with $6. I’m also counting the hours until Samhain because of my Twitter fast. Helps keep me motivated to stay off it (I’m 17% of the way to my goal! A little over 1/6. I’m making progress!)

Re-read Captain Awkward’s archives, after mentioning her to someone. Lots of people spend way more time with friends and even family than I ever have.

I just want to hibernate. Barring that, curl up under blankets with a mug of lemon tea & honey. Then sleep for hours and hours.

Forgot to bring my camera with me today. On the long rainy drive, saw 2 extremely large metal things being transported by truck. Wish I could’ve photographed them. One was a tube; one looked like part of a lunar module.

Exuberant exoskeletons!

Bananas bouncing around apricots!

Rhythmically scratching half-circles on my scalp somehow soothes me too. And sometimes seems to open up my sinuses? Be much better if Spouse was scratching my head, or even rubbing my forehead, but he never does the former and rarely does the latter. Also, he’s out running errands right now.

Woolly rhinoceros. Triceratops. Pterodactyl.

I like writing a ‘writer bio’ when I feel reasonably certain the audience will appreciate my whimsical approach. Even if I had a bunch of publishing credits (and obviously, I don’t), I find writer bios full of that stuff . . . kind of mystifying. Also, boring. That kind is probably one of those prestige/status things that are so incomprehensible to me. Honestly, some of the literary journal names are so ridiculous, I wonder if people don’t just make shit up sometimes. If anyone asked for details, you could just say, oh, they were a zine that went out of business years ago — how would anyone know any differently? Blue Toenail, man, it was so rad, back in the day.

For the love of god, can I visit the Yahoo home page without seeing that photo of the “rare albino deer shot by 11 year old hunter”?

I’ve decided it’s not too early to start getting ready for bed, even though it’s only 7:15 p.m. Good night.

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