Couldn't sleep last night. If I had, the zombies woulda got me. Slept fever-sleep with the covers pulled over my head.
Our collective unconscious is losing hope, feels like. Our dreams are of apocalypse, and there be tygers where we least expect them.
My mind has been full of weird questions today - about whether the world will end with a bang or a whimper, about the rising scream of Pakistan, about the cooking of red snapper, about Big Sisters and zombie survival strategies and whether to snap up a new couch before the end of the tax year. I'm glad I started the day in a cradle of yoga before I let my mind off its leash in this perilous landscape of musings.
Ode To My New MacBook Pro, Purchased Today For An Eye-Rolling Sum And That Was Even With The Questionable Academic Discount, Thank You Very Much
O Mac, enshrouded in your glassy orange sleeve,
Your chitt'ring installations scored this day
Which I had thought that I would spend bereaved
Of that sweet Dell whose company I part
My dear beloved's iPhone hath seduced
My damn'd inconstant impishness of favour
And, linings of my pockets thus reduced,
I set about the sweetness of this labour
For now 'tis time for taking buddy photos
And truffle-hunting iTunes for a treat
And Pollocking with scads of silly icons
Before I limp off, struck numb by the seat.