Oct 10, 2002
Penguins cry ice cube tears.
Too hot. Too cold. I'm mired in the extremes. So tired I know I won't sleep. Hungry but unmotivated by it. The weeks speed by and plod on endlessly. I can't seem to set my watch properly. I don't wear a watch, but that was a metaphor.
And there's never a shortage of ill-mannered neighbors who have no sense of what time it is.
posted by Mary Forrest at 2:32 AM | Back to Monoblog