Procrastination

My nose is shorter, sanded down

From all the one-ply tissues.

This cold is older 

Than my New Year's resolutions.

My student continues to 

Exceed expectations.

She's good, but still green.

I can't forget that

She doesn't know what she doesn't know.

I'm waiting for a textbook

That will help me begin

To craft something out of nothing.

I'm about to step further into

Academia. I'm volunteering my time

At the moment. Not by choice.

But, I think, it's certainly necessary.

Then there's the board

Recertification.

A project will take as long as is

Allotted to it, and I plan

To use every minute.

Departures. Arrivals. (January 27)

At long last, she returned.

"The best weekend of my life," her friend said.

I fared well also. 

And I didn't mind the extra room in bed.

But I'm happy to give it up.

Snowman (January 18)

Snow enough to warrant the snowblower.

Snow enough to make a snowman.

Not snow enough to make forts,

But we tried anyway.

Mood swings of children

Are quick and strong

And disproportionate.

The inability to master a task

He's never tried before

Was enough to ruin the rest of his day.

Debate Club (January 14)

All the white people on stage

Talking about themselves

Variations on a theme.

Another day of sickness

Named and medicated

Repetitions of a theme.

You or me or us. (January 10)

Yesterday we met 

Over fried pickles and beer

To introduce ourselves

And plan our world-changing works.

Today she felt so much better

Well enough to return

Some of the Yule excess.

Tonight the rains come

And tomorrow they'll freeze

And maybe turn to snow.

But knowing this place

And factoring in all the

Carbon dioxide,

Who knows what will happen.

Some days it's hard to be optimistic. 

But it's worth the effort. 

Corners. (January 8)

Today things went better

Then worse

Much worse

Then much better.

Coughs worsened but colds lessened,

Which seemed contradictory.

Then fevers spiked and nurses were called.

But the ibuprofen at last arrived and

Worked its magic and things looked

Brighter. Contradictory.

An episode was recorded. 

It was fast and loose. I loved it.

Sprout (January 6)

Sometimes the ideas come at 

Inopportune times. 

I'm trying to sleep.

I slept very little last night, you see. 

Your timing is awful, though, I am,

In the end,

Glad you're here.

Have a seat. I'll be with you in the morning. 

Waste not. (January 5)

Some of us made it out of the house today. It was a Pyrrhic victory.

Craig's Cruisers for me and the boys. Annual celebration of "Good job! You sold a lot of popcorn!"

I won the laser tag game.

But we overestimated how much we'd recovered. Tag team for which parent gets to rest for a bit. 

And now the littlest one won't go to sleep.

Mama is taking care of that business. I know I would be The Wrong Parent.

Rain checks (January 4)

It was game night

And we were supposed to host.

Last night I was asleep before nine,

Feeling like I had been steam rolled.

Today was better for me, but

Not for my wife or daughter.

A "can't host, can someone else"

Turned to "some of us may be there"

To "Sorry, we can't make it."

We owe them many nights of hosting. 

Meanwhile, Australia burns and

Our president launches military strikes

With questionable legality and

Repercussions from the Middle East.

I focus on my daughter's laugh and

Her tiny, mighty hugs.

Freight train. (January 3)

I shouldn't be surprised.

Everyone else was coughing.

Nine hours in the van didn't help either.

It starts with a tang in the throat

And my voice deepens. 

Then I can't breathe so well.

Then the migraine.

Sometimes it's a spike being driven 

Into the top of my head,

Slightly angled towards center.

Today it's a vice grip,

Squeezing and tightening with every 

Cough

Sneeze

Light

Turn

Tick

Tock.

Cleaning house. (January 2)

A day of rest and unpacking and cleaning.

Chores in a list. Small to medium ones. The kind where the loathing far outweighs the doing. 

Washed the road salt off. 

Rose early to put in my fifteen minutes of yoga. Later heard on a podcast how Western civilization has dissociated the body from the mind (thanks, Protestants) and we crave things like yoga to reconnect is with ourselves.

Sad that we need to be reconnected with ourselves, but here we are.

Two and a half hours of meetings and D&D. Too much for me. Too tired. 

January 1

We drove home today.

Nine hours, give or take.

Five states and two time zones, to be precise.

Two adults and three children, more or less.

Eight out of the last ten days away from home and surrounded by family. Home in a different way.

Now, we have First Days. Exciting, well-intentioned, fickle days. 

New goals. Lofty, well-intentioned, fickle goals. 

I hope to make it to day three.