well, I remembered this week! 7 Quick Takes of my week

It’s Friday! Again! How does that happen every week?

Check out the collection of other 7 Quick Takes Friday posts, hosted at Jennifer Fulwiler’s blog, Conversion Diary

–1–

Summer classes started this week. That means I’m super busy. And not. If you figure out what that means, tell me. I’m just happy I don’t have to grade anything.

–2–

I am still not in my bedroom. Look, I’m the one that’s pissed about it. You can just feel sorry for me.

–3–

My dog likes to announce my presence to her Master. Sometimes I’d like to just get to the bathroom after the commute, know what I mean? But she leads me to him with grand ceremony. And I better comply. Or maybe it’s just cuz I go straight to the big guy for a treat, anyway. Can’t get enough smoochies from my honey. Teehee.

–4–

If it’s not nailed down it’s getting thrown out. I like that philosophy. I embrace that philosophy. Netflix has distracted me from the execution.

–5–

I painted the bedroom green. And I like it. So, that’s all I have to say on the subject.

–6–

I started writing poetry again. I feel like an angst-ridden teenager with a spiral notebook. Luckily, as an adult I can express that angst in different ways. I’ve established a nice working relationship with some gentlemen: Jack (Daniels), Johnny (Walker), and Jim (Beam). Do y’all know them? They come highly recommended.

–7–

And finally, it’s been really hot around here. I took a lovely walk and sat a while in the sun until I could feel it burning me. Still, I couldn’t get enough of the bright rays on my face. It reminded me a little of adoration.

today’s tweet: a rock, a taco, and a poem

In the shadows of the late afternoon sun,
I paced and moved books from one surface
to the next, hoping to jar some memory
from its fixed place in the ether.

Perhaps, and only if it wants to,
it might come out and play a while.

Distracted, I focus on the frayed ends
of the drapery and wonder how long
it’s been in such a state and has my
mother seen this, which would be very bad.

My eyes dart around the room, looking for it
again, the elusive answer teasing
me from afar and holding up my
progress until I pay it close attention.

Amused by the power it holds upon me,
it playfully stepped out from behind
the potted African Violet, (the one
desperately needing water), and
sat in the sun openly mocking me.

I pounced upon it and put us both out of my misery.

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