Maybe because it's going to be close to 90 today. But by Thursday, all obligations for the week are done--Teaching is not an obligation. My students are sharp. Like a bed of switchblades.
Check out the latest Issue of The Scrambler. I got me a poem over there.
The October Hobart is up over here. The Burch says that the next paper issue is coming soon. Not right this minute, but soon enough that telling you now is a tease.
And speaking of teases, Shanna has posted photos of what is hopefully the finished and fresh Drunk by Noon by Jennifer Knox.
I'm getting all sorts of emails and little postcards with perforated edges from school's I've sent notes to saying "Hi. I have a couple of masters degrees. Can I have a job?" (Not my actual cover letter, but was, indeed, an early draft of it.) It's kinda like horse racing, only I've put my money down on nothing but win-tickets and can't see the odds; it's also possible that to win, I'm gonna have to jump the rail, smack a jockey, and drive the beast over the line myself.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
It Don't Smell Like October
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