I never forget about winter. It went from winter to summer here in an instant, but it’s still only spring. My radishes are doing well. I am concerned about the lavender because it’s in too small of a pot hidden behind the basil and the plant I don’t know the name of but is red and fuzzy and poisonous. This tan. These freckles on my face. My arms.

When I wrote concerned it came out as considered. It is not far off.

Drilling holes into ceramic pots is briefly scary and then it is nothing, you are just outside drilling through paint and clay, trying not to drill into your hand in some way, I don’t know how, maybe a sneeze will make you off-kilter and there’s the hand and the muscles and the blood. I haven’t done that yet. I probably won’t. I am cautious and scared and then at ease but I guess I am always scared.

Writing a resume is tough when out of college for so long having wasted away at a job that doesn’t care about you. No job cares about a person. It is a job. Let me tell you about my sense of humor, my skills as an editor (haha!), how others have let me decide things, which is another way of saying my skills as an editor. I proofread stuff. I want to write some things but rarely get around to it. Get embarrassed instead. What use was all that college if I am shy around my notebooks.

Alright, I have to calm down. Pay my rent. Drop off a tablecloth. Go see a fella. Have a good day.