why caller id should be banished from this house

Evidence of Reading Mosaic

The number on the caller ID came up as the University of Minnesota. My knees went weak and I thought, "This is it!" This is the phone call. Ah, the fates are cruel. The alumni association raising money. And a clear sign I am much too tangled up, my emotions are a little on the strung out side. I am quick to emotion, snappish.

I seriously had no idea how crazy February and March is for people who applied to MFA programs. No clue. I was completely calm, even ambivalent, as I put together application packages, enjoying myself even as I put together a portfolio. But now, I am even more restless than I was last spring, when my teaching job was on the line with budget cuts. More of my heart is on the line for next. (Risk.)

I think there are other elements too: I am in desperate need of fresh air. Minnesota has been lacking in mild days; not only is the snow slick and caked to the concrete, but we get ice cream headaches when we walk the dogs. I am feeling twitchy, on edge, in need of that smell in the air that indicates a change, a turnover in the soil. I need a break from the routine (but I just had one, was just in Florida with poetry for a week, how selfish can a girl be), maybe just a change in setting--that the school-house-school-house routine is grating on me. The air hasn't changed in weeks.

Fortunately, tomorrow marks the first day of bookbinding, so I will return to the Open Book for the evening. This, after parent-teacher conferences. A long day.

This is interesting: see Zadie Smith's commentary on not awarding a prize, and further reactions as well. But wait, there is more.

And the debate in these comments at the poetry foundation.

But the benefits to this waiting game--finding interesting new blogs to peruse: from the pear.