Poem Spam.

Things
by Fleur Adcock

There are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public.
there are worse things than these miniature betrayals,
committed or endured or suspected; there are worse things
than not being able to sleep for thinking about them.
It is 5 a.m. All the worse things come stalking in
and stand icily about the bed looking worse and worse and worse.

Hey there!

Being unemployed means different kinds of productivity happen.Have, in the last couple days, spent quality time cleaning up Diego and the old lj. Tagged everything that needed tagging all the way back to January of '05 -- *is SO tough* -- and am currently dumping files onto Chewie, the external drive. Been meaning to do this for ages. Went through all my cds and reorganized those the other day too. The next step is to go through and clean up the living room, which is going to happen just as soon as I finish watching this episode of Teen Titians
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I was reminded the other day that I haven't checked in ages to see if anyone new had friended me and well, people have!. Heh.

So, new friended peoples, Hello!

Also, all of this has also reminded me that my bio on my info page is wickedly out of date. So I've finally updated. Muah ha ha.
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And now? Off to crazy dinner with the family. I'm thinkin' there's gonna be crab legs. Rock. On.