I sent off another conference proposal tonight, and I have a couple to work on tomorrow. The confernce proposal is such a strange genre, and it doesn't help that lately I feel as thought chunks of my vocabulary are missing. I think it's because I've been thinking so much about poetry lately and the same words keep coming up, especially anything to do with modern, modernism, modernity.... All words that mean different things. Then there's all the poetic jargon I use when annotating -- suggests, recalls, illustrates, references -- including all the specialized terms of prosody. The same words, over and over again -- they really kill the brain after a while. But I'm on the home stretch now, and the next reading list is much more familiar to me.

We are broke again, eagerly awaiting student loans, scholarships and a paycheque for Mike. Luckily we are pretty well-stocked in the kitchen, and we've paid rent, bought gas and we have enough left for cat food. When the day arrives (if it ever does) when we have a regular paycheque coming in it will be an odd feeling indeed. I'm actually getting used to living in bouts of having and having-not over not just months but years. Of course, my most recent angry breakdown wasn't even a month ago, so maybe I'm just feeling temporarily rejuvenated. Or maybe I'm delirious because it's 1am and I've been thinking about multiPopword for the last hour. Either way, some semblance of tranquility is a good thing.

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