la fleur épuisée: just another out-of-print flower

Buzz! Buzz! I'm drinking loads of caffeinated fizzy beverage and eating these curry-flavored potato crisps that Brandi thought weren't so great, but they really grow on you. Or at least they grow on me.

This is the part of almost-spring where riotous sunshine is overtaken by days of cloud and drizzle, runny noses, dramatic tumbles and twirls in the weather and my mood. This is the part where we have daffodils in cobalt cups, pink carnations in coffee mugs (from a neighbor overwhelmed by our willingness to take out her garbage--that speaks for itself of our city culture). This is the part where I buzz from group to group, meetings and coffee dates and even miniature childcare gigs, like a pollinating little bumblebee hoping things will flower soon. (This is also the part where we eat repetitive leftovers and wonder how anyone else ever gets their laundry done, lest you think our life too rosy.)

Forgive the strained metaphor.

I'm skipping poetry playtime this afternoon in order to get some work done, which should probably not involve writing a blog post, but it's been a while. Caffeine always makes me expansively verbal. Tomorrow my students have a paper due, so I will bake zucchini bread for them in a bit (or chocolate chip cookies, if I have chocolate chips and can tamp down my health conscience about giving 18-year-olds cookies for breakfast). I also have a group presentation tomorrow night, and I foolishly began Paradise last night, which is a rather long Toni Morrison novel that has me hooked and twisted in its mystery already and is really tempting me to read it. Have any of you read the book before? After this I only have Love left, and I think I might feel bereft when this wandering through TM is over (though is it ever, really?).

P.S. Classes for summer and fall are looking to be ridiculously wonderful. Sigh. Buzz.