Sunday, Bloody Sunday

You know, my blog titles make absolutely no sense sometimes.

I just submitted my pedagogy paper. I would usually ask someone to read something like this before I submit it, but I decided to trust myself this time. We'll see how that works out. I'm already getting excited/nervous about my first trip to NYC. I'm such a country bumpkin, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself in a city that big. Chicago made me want to pee my pants the first time I was there...I'm sure NYC will be somewhat the same.

Next up, working on my Winter Wheat presentation.

I got a lot of little things done yesterday, but not near as much as I was hoping. And I still need to write those damn poems floating around in my head. There's never enough time! Gotta leave for dinner at my sister's soon, and I'm usually there way longer than I plan to be, so once again, my weekend to do list is going to roll over into my Monday to do list. Hrumph. At least there's Tuesday...a very un-busy day to catch up.

Do you ever wonder how much of what you write isn't really yours? I was reading Drift of the Hunt the other day, which I haven't looked at for about a year, and I realized that one of Craig's lines ended up in one of my poems. I didn't do it on purpose. Luckily, Craig believes in poetic cannibalism, so I know he won't be upset. Besides, he's read the poem and he didn't notice either. (At least not that he told me.)

Enough of this mindless rambling. Back to work.