It has been BUSY at chez schmutz lately. Both of us have been running ragged on various projects. Ed is doing a major reorganization initiative at work, causing him to rack up 5 hours in overtime by Tuesday and sign up for a full shift + on Saturday. He's even been putting in the odd remote hour. It's grant writin' season for dANDelion, and due to some ridiculous short staffing issues my devoted president has been working crazy hours on them, and I've been trying to help out as much as I can between my teaching, trying to write, and actually producing the next issue of the magazine (which is going to be SEXY. I am blessed to accept the offerings of such talent.). I felt very indulgent yesterday actually sitting down for lunch instead of absently gnawing on a carrot stick while typing.

I also have to report the oddest news: my thesis? is going rather well in the last couple of weeks. I know. I know! I have a decent 20-page chunk that's on it's way to being polished, which I hope will mollify my long-suffering and inordinately patient advisor. I am rather pleased with this bit, from "the lineage of saint nickel." It needs work, but there's a desperation in the rhythm that pleases me:

begotten

being gotten

caught begging

begging cotton

gaunt boggling

braking gluten

gut braiding

bearing often

get breeding

looting ovum

spot breeding

baying organ

gout brooding

getting bought

i fax my heart to you saint nickel

i xerox my eyes to you saint nickel

i copy my hands in triplicate saint nickel

the glug in my throat praying through tears i burn to cd saint nickel

* * *

Those crazy literary pseudo-saints. Always begetting something or other.

I've been writing quite a bit lately, which is making me very happy. I had been feeling a bit like a sham poet for a month or so. Everything I put down was crap. I thought for sure I had gone linguistically tone-deaf and was wondring if I should surrendur and go to culinary school (hoping my tatebuds didn't up and die on me). I'm in the midst of a bit of a fertile period right now and so feeling like I might be able to do this after all.

In more wifely news, I have about 16 loads of laundry in various stages of being done right now. I am the queen of doing laundry at the wierdest times -- I pity the poor folks upstairs who much hear the dryer whine to life at 3am and think I'm a nocturnal fabric softener gollem. In my defense, there was a pile of clothing a the foot of the bed that was going to topple and kill a cat. Or maybe start talking and giving advice to fraggles.

Tea in hand and bags under my eyes, its time to face another day. Morning down town, lunch and afternoon at the U, hopefully get some dinner, drag out to Costco for water and snap peas and other delectables. Once we're finally home and in pajamas, my husband and I will look at each other adoringly and collapse into a snoring heap. Well, until 1am or so, when I get up and write for a few hours. The cats like it, and keep me company, and since I've finally done some work that doesn't make me want to set the monitor on fire, I don't miond looking like death for the odd salvageable line or three.

Also, my students continue to rule. They make me want to get through the week. Between their energy, Ed, and sushi, I will survive this year.