1. My mind is roaming other worlds while I enter data and count women and minorities for a grant report today. Imagining better ways to spend my days, with a little help from:
(that you sell your one given life to someone else so that the very life force that keens in you, that makes these daisies turn to the sun, is put on pause until some other time in the future, that never quite arrives)
(whose work would you rather read, Colette - swimming, sex and regular blood transfusions from an attractive young donor - or film critic Roger Ebert - rise at 7, oatmeal, treadmill, cold shower).
3. The boys are all choosing between seeing these folks (Paradise) or these & these folks (Church) tonight.
Me? I've got a date with my mandolin, the New Yorker, a crazy story idea, and - oh yes - a whole messa laundry. Aaand possibly also a few more episodes of BSG. I know it is so NOT rock and roll that I'm excited about this night in, and I know I should really be out shmoozing with the scenesters (why when our new manager is so good at that?) - but I'm a gemini, I have twins in here and tonight I am the introvert homebody poet.
Saturday night I'll be rarin' to face the unleashed beer-sheened din of a crowd of people who are all yearning to be struck. I gotta generate some juice, kids.
Hope your Friday night is whatever you need it to be.
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