i went in to introduce myself to him. he was hiding in the boxes. i moved a box out of the way to expose him, he looked at me and greeted me with a deep, hearty meow. then he came out and i sat down in the mudroom with him. and did the love begin! he was all up in my face cuddling and snuggling and purring and meowing. he is attention deprived.
doc says he doesn't have to stay in the mudroom for two days, but i can't let him out now. *sigh* i can't get any pictures of him because he won't back off enough. i tried a couple of times, but, as with vader, i got a lens full of fur.
i've noticed that my writing has tightened up a bit since i started voraciously reading Bukowski. now i want to get his poetry and see if that has any influence on me. to be honest, i've never read a poem by him. i bet i could find some online. i'll get to that. i am always looking for new inspiration for my poetry and Bronte just isn't doing it. i'm afraid to read Plath because i fear i may end up too much like her, i've already been compared to her, though i don't know why.
right. i feel like i have something to do, but in actuality i have nothing. oh, i could fold the 8 pieces of laundry that are hanging outside. that's something.