Monday, June 7, 2010

It isn't tomorrow yet.

For my return to blogging, I give you...


It is warm tonight, so I am imagining pear-flavored gelato sliding around on my tongue.

I haven't written in a while, and I am as puzzled as you are as to why I'm starting again now. The new school year begins tomorrow, and I have been hired to wreak havoc on impressionable young minds. I should be up to my neck in Zoology books, but here I am blogging. I think this could be the last dregs of my denial.

My quiet life as a patron of the arts (This sounds nicer than penniless bum.) is at an end. I mourn my slow mornings, my stack of unread books and unwatched movies. I mourn my walks with Dog, and the constant battle to entertain myself. I mourn impulsive downloads and random link-clicking and afternoon TV. I mourn curling up on the green couch and relaxing mugs of tea. I mourn free time and series marathons and unplanned naps. I mourn pajamas during the day and successful, experimental lunch recipes. I mourn peace.


P.S. Roger Federer lost to Robin Soderling in the Quarterfinals of the French Open. I was not as devastated as I should have been. Lem observes that Roger now reacts to losses in a calm, paternal manner. Rafael Nadal inevitably won the final and now believes he can bounce back from his relatively mediocre year. I didn't know The Bicep harbored such confidence issues. Cheers to the new Number One.

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