Neile Graham (neile) wrote,
Neile Graham
neile

Les Semaines August 9, 2009: My Time is My Own

The workshop is over. It takes me a while to stop remembering to phone Kinko's before I go to bed and stop getting up in time to get to class. Then, suddenly, I sleep. I feel like I sleep for days, but maybe only sleepwalk through them. I start doing long put-off errands, like venturing all the long miles to Ikea with Devin to buy a shelving unit for our kitchen, which turns out to be quite an improvement, but it took me *months* to get there. I book a ticket to visit my parents (leaving Tuesday, leaving Jim behind to take care of the cats).

All these things that have been pressing to do.

And un-pressing things: I bake a peach pie. I pick up thread and buttons for a dress I want to mend. I buy bits and pieces, make CDs to mail to write-a-thon sponsors, mail an encouragingly large stack of them.

I go to lovely brunch with a small group of poets where we ate waffles and fruit and read poems on a balcony overlooking the Sound.

Jim and I walk down to the new neighbourhood deli and pick up dinner.

Then come home and collapse.

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For my listening, reading, and writing news and a day from my 1997 trip to Scotland, see Les Semaines.
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