Danced to the new Rihanna album in the basement. The album wasn't great to dance to, but not terrible either. It was actually pretty romantic, some of it, and got me in the mood for Valentine's Day.
It's been 4 days since I danced last. This morning my only fuel was coffee, but it got me most of the way there.
Ugh, this is prosaic. But that's the deal. You can try for poetry every day, but you have to prepare for prose. Because that's the way it goes. Hey, that rhymed at least. Rhyme's the worst. Poetry is the worst. Coffee's the best. But even that falls flat sometimes. It's just grind grind grind. No pun intended.
But I did it, and that's something. Right? Right? Right!?
I did, at least, dream last night that I ate a shoe made of fruit leather.