I made a plate of my leftover birthday dinner from K.’s refrigerator and ate it at the table while reading my new book. K. was at a PBAT panel at the high school, the cat was sprawled all over the table. I’m so lucky.


K. made O. and I grilled cheese sandwiches while we folded and put away the laundry. We had broccoli too, it was in the eat-or-be-thrown-out stage, so we ate it. O. ate almost all of his sandwich. I felt like I played a critical role in that, and of course could not help boasting.

K. packed me a square meal of leftovers in a square container (it’s love!) and I finally got to devouring it at 3pm between a class and a reference desk shift. The only utensil in my office was a spoon, sufficient for all but the potatoes, which I had to eat by hand.

Do you know how sometimes it turns out that you’re really really good at something but you wish in your heart of hearts you were really really good at something else? Like, you’re really really good at putting things on calendars and then following through on the things as they come up on the calendars, but maybe you wish you were as good as that but at being a poet or a coordinated line dancer or a lover or a fighter? I sat in my office, every sheet of paper pushed an order of magnitude farther than those papers are used to being pushed, bent over my dish, cried a little into it.

When I got home last night and went to turn on the light I couldn’t. The string is broken, dangling down from the ceiling, taunting, useless. Slept on it, woke up, it’s still true. So I ate my lunch in the least poetic half-light ever. Gotta get C. up to fix it like he did the light in the hallway a couple months ago. I’m way too short.

I’m expanding my repertoire, in major consumption for the sake of production mode, I’ve purchased and squirreled home things like soy sauce and gomashio, I’ve looked up things I can’t believe my bachelor self did not know how to do until now like how to fry tofu, I’m cooking a lot of meals at home. Lunch was the leftovers from last night, how easy was that.

I can imagine how it must have happened, how we all thought what I thought too, I’ll just do it after spring break. But saying that too many times has led to five classes this week, two at night; six meetings, one that will take half a day; rising PowerPoint demand; and the completion, duplication, and submission of too many forms to count. Swallowed my dish as fast as I could so I could run upstairs and set up the lab for today’s round one. The top of the quinoa had taken the shape of the lid; that’s what happens when you push down on it hard to remove all the air while the quinoa’s still hot.