Hello one and all! Welcome to July! So far it has been a pretty good month, I think. However, it wouldn't be my life if there weren't crazy stories...so...
On Wednesday, I got to ride the bus to work and as I got off at Chapters, I felt a little cold in the back. Specifically my lower, lower back. I realized that there had been some kind of liquid on the seat (Probably from an extremely wet rider from the day before and the torrential rain), and that my whole lower lower back and legs were wet. Just like I'd peed my pants. Yeah. So, I had to just let it dry, meanwhile walking around at work as Ms. Pee-pants. Really, I just couldn't be any classier! Luckily the store wouldn't be open for another 2 hours, which was just about how long it took to dry off. When I had first discovered the "wetness", I was terrified that either I: (a) actually had peed myself and didn't feel it, which would open up a lot of other problems, or... (b) I had sat in someone else's urine. So, I made Amy smell my pants. Thankfully it was just water.
I am kind of sad to be back at work after the wonderful 3 day weekend filled with babies, boys, games, Canadian Idol (don't you dare judge me), thunder storms, The Office saison quatre, and great food. However, there is always a lot for me to do at the store, so I am staying busy, and the time is going quickly. I am especially tied up in our Midnight Masquerade event for which we have had two planning meetings. I am glad to be in charge, but I foresee a few sleepless nights coming up pretty soon as I lay awake trying to remember if we bought fast drying glue, or if there will be enough books, or, horror of horrors, nobody comes.
Anyway, enough of that nonsense. Today, after all, is poetry day!!! I have been eagerly anticipating today so I could premiere my newest attempt, which I wrote this last weekend.
Just to preface this poem, I do not want to kill myself. The poem is actually more about how we are sometimes drawn to darkness, and how it can be so easy, almost seductive, to go to a darker or self-pitying place. Heavens, why do you think the emo movement is so prolific? So here it is. I hope you enjoy. Actually, I really don't care whether you like it or not. I do.
Flirting with Dirges
Can you hear it?
There is a funeral procession in the hallway
and I'm afraid if I leave my room
I won't be able
to fight the compulsion to join
(As it is, it's killing me)
Maybe
I'll open the door
just a crack-
enough to see inevitability waiting...
Black-plumed horses
stamp impatience into the carpet
(Either they are out of place,
or I am)
Close behind
looking suitably elegant
Chopin
seductively hums his march
and my fingers ache to play along.
Mourners line the walls
waiting for their cue
obviously bored
with my non-appearance
I lock myself back in
but it's no good.
All the doors in the world
can't hide me
from the gleaming black carriage.
- JKO July, 2008
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