April 22: Busier than I Want, Poem, "Rye" Dip Monday

I have been insanely busy today.  I've also been insanely productive.  I sat down this morning and made a list of tasks I needed to accomplish.  It was a huge, daunting list.  Thus far, I've been able to put a check mark by quite a few of my to-dos.

I needed to put together the in-class portion of the final exam for my Intro to Film classes.  Check.

I needed to make a hand-out for the short answer essay portion of the final exam.  Check.

I needed to construct an e-mail list for both of my Intro to Film classes to send them the link to the online course evaluation.  Check.

I needed to grade some extra-credit assignments.  Check.

In between all of these things, I've said my prayers, read my devotions, answered phones, put together medical charts, and processed patient payments.  Check, check, check on all those things.

Now, I have to write my first and second blog posts for the day.  I feel like I've gotten a lot done, but I don't have a lot to show for it.  I'd rather have a new poem than a completed list.  Ah, well.  Summer is coming, with tons more time to write (and tons more time to worry about finances).

My question for the Gospel according to Holden today is simple:

Will my the poetry manuscript I just put together win the chapbook contest I'm going to enter?

And the answer from the holy book is:

Old Phoebe didn't say anything.  When she can't think of anything to say, she doesn't say a goddam word.

Well, that sucks.  I've learned that I don't get too many positive responses from The Catcher in the Rye.  It probably has to do with the fact that it's about a teenager having a nervous breakdown.  However, I usually get some kind of answer, positive or negative.  Anything.  The passage above is the Magic 8 Ball equivalent of "Cannot predict now" or "Ask again later."


Maybe Saint Marty will give his copy of Catcher a shake and ask again.  Or maybe he'll just live with the uncertainty for a while.  It's better than Holden calling him a pain in the ass or a goddam phony.

You can count on it!