dulcetly...notes on a bookish life

Ever since I got back, I've felt a little like a sullen, spoiled child. First there is the weather, which is bitterly cold and making my apartment way too chilly, my tolerance of which after the last two weeks of balmy southern climes is razor thin. There is also romantic drama I am trying to disentangle from after 5 years of throwing myself into the thick of it and the accompanying emotional exhaustion (I say this everytime things go bad, but that's the point, they go bad like clockwork.) I also have large book and wholesale orders on my plate, regular orders, and getting ready for April's chapbook blitz. (in which I catch up, ideally, on the schedule in a mass of sparkly new releases, stay tuned for details.) Last night, I had a few too many Jack & cokes out with work friends which made me foggy headed last night and woefully inneficient today. I slept too far into the afternoon and woke up insatiably craving pancakes. I'm lacking momentum mostly and this is a bad time for it. All this week I'll be playing catch-up with early mornings in the studio and hoping for better weather.