The great escape.

Ever feel like this? (you should hear the audio!)

As the end of the semester nears (approaches - draws nigh - looms - threatens - etc) I realize that I seem to feel the turn of the year much more at this time than at the traditional Dec 31/Jan 1 of the Julian calendar. The reason for this reflection is, of course, the years of "schooling" that I've "undertaken" (undergone? underwent??)

In fact, I'm so overwhelmed by the weight of my reflections, that I find I have started this blog post more than six time, with no forward motion. I am floating in a vast ocean of recollection and introspection, searching the only now visible shore of the future for some clue, some idea, of the land I'm approaching. (how's that for an extended metaphor, John Donne!)

Anyway, I still feel compelled to write something (with an obvious preference for that "something" to appear in italics most of the time), even though I'm essentially circumnavigating the issue(s) itself (themselves...hmm.) Time itself may be a problem, since I don't feel I can do justice to my thoughts at the moment. Perhaps after class today.

As to an update, I have discovered a deep, abiding love for the IRS.



(pause)



Riiight.


I had to file an extension with those lovely folks because somewhere amidst my seven (yes, SEVEN) W2s, someone decided to mess it all up and not include my hundreds of dollars of income taxes that I've already paid this year.


Thank my lucky stars for my father - for years, because of an off-hand comment he made when I was 14, I've kept every single pay stub. I hated it; the file folder stuffed full of ragged half-sheets, the sorting every two years, the random stub I neglected to file discovered in my school bag ... my karate bag... my knitting bag. Yet, this year, I learned that, for about the umpeen-millionth time, my dad was right. I told him that, too, and he was less exultant about my admission than I expected: humble, even. He's a great guy, my dad.

I guess, more later. For now, read my yearly April poem from Langston Hughes at the VERY bottom of this page.

AND... be sure to check out the brewmeister's page for pics of he and the eJ's new glorious baby, William.

AND... get your daily dose of (public domain) literature here. What a cool concept!