March 16: And the Winner Is, Bad Day, God's Love Numbers Twenty-Six and Twenty-Seven, "Ives" Dip

This morning, I made the trek to the local Public Radio station for the announcement of the next U. P. Poet Laureate.  All of the other nominees were present, either in person or by phone.  After the pleasantries and introductions, the envelope was opened.  (Yes, there was an actual envelope.)

And the winner is...not me.

I was sitting next to Russ Thorburn, the reigning laureate, so, when he tore open the envelope, I could immediately see the name on the paper inside.  Andrea Scarpino.  I was expecting Andrea to win, and she is quite deserving of the honor.  She's accomplished, smart, charismatic, funny.  She'll be fantastic in the position.

Of course, I would be lying if I said I'm not disappointed.  For a few brief moments in the studio this morning, I actually allowed myself to believe that my name was in that envelope.  But, now that all the falderal is over, I will have a drink tonight (maybe two or three) and get back to my life as a husband, father, teacher, and poet.

It was a bad day at work in the medical office, so that has not helped my mood, either.  I find myself feeling stuck in a job I really don't enjoy.  So, no poetic accolades and shitty employment.  And it's pouring rain right now, soon to switch over to snow.

I realized late last night that I never talked about God's love in my March 15 post.  That means I have to talk about two examples of God's love today.  It's not going to be easy, considering my state of mind.  Here goes.  For last night, I would say that my new poem was God's love at work in my life.  For today, I would say that the fifth of Kahlua in my cupboard will be God's love at work tonight.  (Hey, I know it's a stretch, but that's all I got.)

I do have a question for my Ives dip:

Should I drink my Kahlua straight or mixed in hot chocolate?

And the answer from Ives is:

...[Ives] had eaten about half of the chocolate bar and was savoring its aftertaste when several of his fellow workers came out of the building, and while he nodded in his usual friendly manner, he could not even begin to entertain the idea of a conversation with them...

Hot chocolate it is!

Saint Marty will be feeling much better in a little while.

Happiness is on its way