I had this stupendous poem I wanted to write. I wish I could remember it. I write my best poetry in the bathroom . . . tmi? heh

So I have a free weekend for the first time in three of four weeks or something. I have a list of things I want to do with it. I'm getting pretty hyped up about reading at Peet's coffee.

I will say that I have enjoyed many conversations with Genevieve of late. It seems like there was often a month or so between conversations until a few weeks back. I've talked to her four times or more! :) I would tell you how it makes me feel, but it's only really fit for poetry. But I cannot think of poetry right now. Isn't that just the worst??

I put off writing a lot of things because my writing cannot do those things justice. It's a tragedy.