Well, it wasn't really a rejection. It just said they weren't reading poetry until May, so re-submit then. But it was disappointing nonetheless.

The more troubling development is that there are only three people officially registered for my class-- and one more who hasn't registered yet but is going to. This makes a count of four students. I have this vague idea that I need five, although I haven't been told this through any official channels.

There were six people pre-registered. I guess until the late registration and add/drop deadlines are past, there's nothing to be decided for certain. But if my class is canceled, I will be so, so, so upset. I would say "you have no idea" but I am sure that in fact, you have a very good idea of how upset I will be.

And also, I have a cannibal spider in my bathroom. It's eating all the other spiders-- every time I go in there, it's got another one of them wrapped up, ready to eat. Okay, it's only eaten two spiders so far. But I don't see any other spiders in the bathroom. So what happens when the cannibal spider runs out of spiders to eat?

It goes hunting for humans. Perhaps helpless, naked, showering humans. Or perhaps it will hide on a towel or something, waiting to be taken into the room where parakeets live. Then it will hunt parakeets. I can see it now-- I'm going to come home and find Pigwidgeon's head wrapped up in cannibal spider silk.

That'll teach me to be overly happy with my life.

I had a spectacularly slug-like day today.

I did get one project done. And I paid my bills. And I did this redesign. And that's about it.

I don't even have anything interesting to say about any of this stuff. The project is a secret, and my bills are wholly uninteresting. The redesign? Here it is. (Monique stares at blinking cursor, trying to think of something-- anything--- to add to this. Monique draws a complete blank. Monique moves on.)

I just hate these days. I know that tomorrow, while I'm making lattes, I will remember something totally productive or fun or useful that I could have been doing today. And it will be too damn late.

Oh, that reminds me of a story. I went into work yesterday to pick up my schedule, and my manager was there. (My manager-- who I love-- is leaving. Have I mentioned this? She's going to textile school, and she doesn't have time to be a manager, and so she's going to go be a shift supervisor at another store. My friend at work tells me she's met our new manager, and that she's cool and laid back. I hope so.) So anyway, our manager was there. And she said, "Oh, people have been ordering the Mocha Valencia like crazy, ever since that day."

You see, last time I worked, which was last Saturday, I redid our chalkboard with a plug for the Mocha Valencia. (Nobody ever orders it, but it's a good drink-- "rich chocolate and orange with an added espresso kick" as my sign says. Plus, my initials are MV. I like marking up the cups with my own initials. Gives me an inflated sense of importance. More than usual, even.)

So that day, the day I did the sign, one guy ordered a Mocha Valencia. "It was the sign, wasn't it?" I asked, indicating the chalkboard. He said, "No. Actually, I didn't see the sign." So I was all disappointed because my sign wasn't working. My manager laughed at me.

So yesterday my manager told me that for the rest of the week, people were ordering the Mocha Valencia right and left. And the regional manager came in and actually complimented the sign. "Wow, that's so descriptive! It makes me want to order one!" My manager said, "Well Monique who is a poet in grad school did that sign!"

It fit right in with the rest of my egotistical day, to hear that story. Even though, in the grand scheme, it's just a stupid Starbucks chalkboard.

But today is a new day. Today: the day of Zen. The day of nothingness. And I still don't feel like doing anything. Writing a poem? Nope. Watching a movie? No. Working on my proposal letter? Mmm. No. Answering mail? No, no, no. I think you get the general idea.

Oh, fucking hell. I just thought of exactly what I should have done today. I should have taken my car in to get fixed. The passenger side door is broken-- it doesn't lock anymore. And now it's a holiday weekend, and it's too damn late to take it in.

I think I'll just go sacrifice myself to the cannibal spider. That seems like the correct end to this waste of a day. Feh.

"Not to mention all the stuff my grandmother gave me, every time I'd go over there. 'Minikie, dis is a be-yoo-ti-ful bowl. And if you take da bowl, you need da for-uk and knife to go with it, and da plate, and da cup...' Thanks to Grandma, I have enough kitchenware to equip an army batallion. And most of it is ugly and from the 1970s, but oh well."