It's been one book ordered, zero new books arrived, one nail in the Pickup tire, seven more days of the poetry-a day challenge, one Sunday breakfast out with the family and one week since my last confession.
I'm sitting here working on this with about a half a can of Hamm's beer. You decide if it's half empty or half full. I'm extra tired tonight and somewhat cranky. I will confess that I am completely caught up on my poem drafts (1 per day) for the month. Just sharing that with you makes me feel slightly more up beat but I'm not going to let it go to my head.
Being cranky is probably to several things of which one is I am pretty wiped out. This and I still need to send out a bio and a photo tonight for an upcoming event, and the fact that I am just flat out sick and tired of the President who ignores every bit of government ethics and is so cavalier about it and is generally on idiot. Today for example, he raised tariffs on soft lumber imported from Canada. He's already succeeded the Asian rim trade to China by cancelling the TPP. So, now let's start a trade war. I could go on with the Trump stuff that has me upset, but I confess I already dwelling too much on the buffoon.
Had a letter from Ken (my mentor) this week - couple more pieces of work that he has critiqued. I have a nagging question that I need to go to him with today or tomorrow. I confess it will probably wait till tomorrow because I want to make sure that I give it the attention it needs before I e-mail him and I would only rush it tonight. (We are being honest here, right)
Tupelo Press is having this fantastic sale on books. Like $16 books for five bucks! I ordered one during the past week that I am anxious to read but it has not arrived. I confess Amazon Prime makes you impatient when ordering elsewhere.
I am officially concerned about my San Francisco Giants.... though they did manage a 2-1 win over the Dodgers last night. Injuries have taken a toll on this team in addition to some players that they have lost this season to other teams.
I'm starting to feel like a Debbie Downer so I will close for now and finish crying over my beer.
Stay Safe & live poetically!