now do you think the second movement has too many violins?

lunchbreak;
i plugged my ipod into some computer speakers in my office and i don't know why i didn't do it earlier.
drinking tea and reading a margaret atwood book of poetry over lunch makes my life seem so charming.
matt will be gone all week, i guess, so i'm going to try to get my room finally completely organized and do a lot of sewing and sending out overdue mail. wish i had a means of watching the dvds i got for christmas.

i am definitely cutting my hair short again. don't try to stop me! it's just, i feel like i definitely look better with short hair and maybe i look okay with way long hair but i can't deal with this in between messiness. also, i am more likely to notice short hair on girls and think it looks good. chances are also good that my hair will be blonde again by summertime. i can't help it, i just love the color. i really am regretting having grown up because i would like to have my hair a nice eggplant color sometime. ideally i will someday have a really hip job that appreciates raspberry hair and sneakers with skirts. i think i am going to start making some sort of timeline/to-do list in the interest of making that happen.



You Come Back

You come back into the room
where you’ve been living
all along. You say:
What’s been going on
while I was away? Who
got those sheets dirty, and why
are there no more grapefruit?
Setting foot on the middle ground
between body and word, which contains,
or is supposed to, other
people. You know it was you
who slept, who ate here, though you don’t
believe it. I must have taken
time off, you think, for the buttered
toast and the love and maybe both
at once, which would account for the
grease on the bedspread, but no,
now you’re certain, someone else
has been here wearing
your clothes and saying
words for you, because there was no time off.