On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I’m wishing Lord that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
-Johnny Cash

Well, I don’t feel that bad; I just really like “Sunday Morning Coming Down.” It’s a good song, and I opened this year by getting some Johnny Cash in my collection.

My inability to sleep past a certain level of ambient light in the mornings is a bit irritating, however.

But oh, what a weekend it’s been so far. So, yesterday I proved that amputees can be hilarious, though not as funny as crack, according to my sources. I still had Kelsey paralyzed with laughter doing what could be charitably called the “No Arms Dance”…

[does stuff for a while, returns to post-in-progress 12 hours later]

Man, I just realized that this is the third consecutive October during which someone has broken up with me. You wipe out this month, I’m nearly flawless. Zach, on hearing this, scratched his chin for a moment and told me that all his relationships have started in October… spooky. But I guess it’s always been.

Yes, Zach has just started dating someone. We’re all a little bit alarmed. And this time it’s not an elaborate hoax. Oh, sweet monkey-loving Jesus, I never explained that, did I? Zach and Kate were actually, according to their sworn testimony, never actually a couple. It was all a plan to get back at me for certain things, which means I made all those horrible, mind-searing puns over nothing. hehehe. God, those were brilliant.

So the upside of all this emotional turmoil is I’m remembering all the songs I haven’t listened to in a goddamn long time. iTunes tells me I haven’t heard “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” since June. Ah, well.

The other thing is there’s new poetry to be written. Though strangely based on a really happy tune I got in my head over the summer. The new one up is “Pull Myself Together.” So, y’know, check it out if that’s your thing. Or if you’re looking for something more coherent than this blog.

Really, people like my poetry. I find this encouraging. In particular, a random person on the elevator yesterday read a poem I was carrying and asked to keep it. That was spiffy. And then I continued on and started drinking up in 424. One of our resident suburbanites, Brianne had friends come down here, and they later, it was determined, went outside to snort Vicodin. I, for one, did not know that Vicodin was snorted. You learn something new everyday.

And that’s just about enough out of me for today. More tomorrow, I suspect.