imaginarycircus

Everytime I look out the window something different is happening. Ice, sleet, then snow, repeat in random order. I am very glad David stayed home today and did not drive all the way to NJ over the George Washington Bridge. I was so glad I made muffins. If it weren't for the constant snow blowing going on outside my skull I would be perfectly content. Cat? check. Husband? check. Hot coffee? lukewarm now, but check. Snowy? Sometimes check. Annoying loud diesel engines? sadly check.

David bought me two dozen lipstick roses on Sunday when we were at Whole Foods because I said they were pretty. Bertie is fascinated by them and wants to pull them out of the vase. At night I have to put it up high so he can't get into trouble.

I weighed him last night. He weighs 8 pounds. He has more than doubled in weight since we got him in December. He is just shy of six months old and we need to take him to get his boy parts dismantled.

Life is pretty damn good. I wish I could cut little pieces of it off like a sourdough starter and send it to anyone who is not having such a good time. And stow someaway for me in case I need it later. Anyone know how to work that?

I handed out the 70 pages of my novel yesterday which felt good even if they are filled with gibberish and typos. The professor gave us a writing assignment to write the world's worst bedtime story in 350 words or less. At the very end of class we read them each in turn with the lights dimmed and then left without discussing them. It was hilarious. I was crying so hard. Bedtime stories about Caligula, trapeze artists that shit on the crowd, molesting children, and mine about a boy who lives in an iron lung full of lizards.