December 12, 2007

Yesterday was a reminder of the disturbing degree to which one is affected by exterior things. The first half of it was depressed, sullen; I’d even convinced myself that I was unwell. Perhaps I was. Time was on my mind, and finances, too many rejections in the morning mail, all the usual. After the exam in the Yeats class my students and I met at Hannah Flanagan’s for drinks, and I began to uncoil. Late in the night, after Crown rehearsals, I dropped by the Usual to hang out with DJ, but we became enmeshed in Jason’s crew from the art department, and the evening became merry and carefree. Jason regaled us with the story of his brief career as an exotic dancer. This morning I woke with a light heart.

DJ’s Christmas tree is beautiful. Despite my fixation on them, I will not be putting a Christmas tree up this year, as it will be inviting mayhem from the kittens.

Rereading Yeats’ autobiography, trying to figure out where his grandparents’ house was in Sligo. It’s amazing that as often as I’ve been there, I’ve never asked.

Beginning to expand and breathe at the end of the semester, beginning to pick up the ravels of unfinished projects.