The snowy, cold weather has really had me down the last couple of days. It's too much this late in the season. I caught myself thinking that if this were November and I were faced with another five months of winter, I just may have had to off myself in some grisly violent way. Otherwise, I'm feeling mildly organized and generally in a good mood, but it's amazing how climate and temperature can affect my mental states. In late summer, I'm sluggish and distracted. In fall, crisp and efficient. (this is when I'm most productive and so my best work) There's a brief manic arc in my spirits right before Christmas, but after that, for the bulk of winter I'm a freaked out, tense mess most of the time, sick or mopey the rest of the time. Spring and I start to feel better, and generally, April brings leaves on the trees and Poetry Month, and the beaches open up again along the lakeshore and it's damn heavenly.. Early to mid summer is good, I'm compelled to clean the apartment with an OCD fervor, do stuff like go to museums or festivals, but by early August, I'm lazy and not getting much of anything done. And it starts all over again.
Have yet to delve into the delectable looking new issues of Lily and Stirring, which have so many xanga dwellers included, but plan to shortly. "Sugar", which is in this months Lily is an older piece, included in Bloody Mary, and revised with the ending chopped off, re-attached, and then chopped off again since then at the advice of Lily editors. That poem has had so many different endings it's ridiculous.
Tomorrow, I have the day off until the workshop class in the evening, and I guess we'll have to see how that goes this time. On other fronts, I've finally finished the last errata poem, after shuffling the damn thing in my "In Progress" file for over a month to work on new stuff, but I'm glad I can finally put the thing aside and mark it as done in all my damn infernal lists.