Morning Morrowind

I felt better today, and attended work as usual. I’m upset with myself for missing work over a silly sinus problem, because I also missed a meeting that I was actually looking forward to attending. This morning, I got up at 5:30 AM and rode the exercise bike for a while, then discovered that I had plenty of time to do something else before I went to work.

So I played Morrowind. I know, I know, I’m supposed to write, not play games during this morning time. That was the agreement I made with myself. Hey, at least I exercised. That’s a start, and hopefully I will be able to get into that full bore when I’m not so worn out from playing “This Ole House” every night.

I should at least be able to get the hall ceiling painted tonight, and my wife can get some particularly needful parts of the bedroom primed.

“Johnson, you saw like an old lady!”

I had to stay at work late again tonight, this time in Ft. Collins, so I didn’t get much done at home again. There is really no time for writing in all of this; hopefully when I get the office all done I will be able to settle into a morning writing/exercise routine. I have a great assignment for my next class with Melanie Tem; it’s intimidating, which is good.

Speaking of intimidation, I’ve got the saw for cutting the bookshelves tomorrow. I’m intimidated by that prospect, because I’m afraid I will wind up with two useless pieces of gargantuan firewood. I kid you not; these bookshelves are BIG: 6′ 9″ x 3′ x 2′, double-sided. If it works, I’ll have six useable bookshelves that are only one foot deep. When it comes to woodworking, I’m not that great. I vividly remember my 8th grade Shop teacher walking up and telling me, “Johnson, you saw like an old lady.” Maybe that’s feeding into my intimidation here, even though I’ll be using a circular saw. Also, my father cut off his left hand pinky with a circular saw, so I’m sure that has something to do with it.

Poetry.com and Brian Plante

Brian Plante updated his Chronicles of the Garden Variety Writers today. I found almost nothing offensive in this week’s entry, though it did still feel a little smug. I agreed with the assessment he made of a member’s “winning” poetry publication in a national contest. You can find one of mine from a similar “contest” somewhere on their website. After accepting my poem and lavishing all kinds of praise upon it, they informed me that it was selected (with thousands of other poems) for publication in a beautiful, cloth-bound volume which I could purchase for my coffee table. Then, later, they told me that my poem had been one of the “few” selected to be recorded for their poetry CD, which I could purchase for my CD collection. Finally, they told me that I could attend their convention, hosted by Florence Henderson, for only $595 plus. Oh, and one of the nearby hotels was offering a special rate of $120 per night to International Society of Poets members. If I attended, I would receive a trophy consisting of a large silver bowl on a cherry wood pedestal (a $170 value!) I guess that means they would only clear about $400 on my at that convention.

(“Oh my gosh, Mr. Johnson. You mean Poetry.com is really just a vanity press? My word!”)

To be fair, there are a lot of great poems submitted to Poetry.com. It’s just too bad they will only be read by people who search for the poet’s name on the site or buy the overpriced books (and probably not even then.)

Throbbing

The Old Possum’s Writing Group met tonight. Two new members showed up, and one old member who had been in absentia for a few months. My right ear started throbbing during the meeting due to an ear infection (another one! What’s up with my ears this year?) so I kind of wavered in and out of the meeting, but I think I was mostly present. I told Ed Bryant that I would not be able to make it to the Writer’s Circle group this Wednesday due to my workload and upcoming manager’s meeting on Friday.

That will probably force these creativity journal entries to be a bit thin, as well.