Two days ago, I gave up on my quest to write a poem a day in April, and yesterday, I turned 39.
It's only right after the weekend I had that I should admit defeat. I mean, the weather in southern Maryland was downright perfect, the drinks were steadily flowing, and the number one derby team in the country kicked some serious butt with me watching. How can I top any of that with a poem on Monday and a birthday on Tuesday? Nope, I can't.
Might as well lay down and die now. ;)
i am also thinking about giving up. writing daily poems is the pits.
ReplyDeletealso: happy happy birthday!
Well you are nine years over due for our suicide pack. Let me catch up with you then we will reevaluate.
ReplyDelete[...] I’m starting on my first celebratory weekend. It won’t be as good as last year’s first weekend, but I get to see one of my favorite bands with my favorite sister (okay, my one and only sister, [...]
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