Yesterday I did my last presentation in Modern Drama, which—besides teaching and the French exam—is my last hurdle before the end of April.  (The presentation, by the way, was on Sophie Treadwell’s Machinal, an amazing play that the Western literary canon “forgot” for about 50 years and has recently rediscovered—a great play.)

This means that today I drove out to Off Broadway and got a pair of shoes, and thence to McKay’s, where I got four books, one of which is a children’s book called A Hole is to Dig (A First Book of First Definitions), illustrated by Maurice Sendak, which has wonderful sentences in it like, “Mashed potatoes are to give everybody enough” and “A face is so you can make faces.  A face is something to have on the front of your head.”  I basically love it.  (“Grass is to have on the ground with dirt under it and clover in it.”) (“A hole is when you step in it you go down.”)  (“Cats are so you can have kittens.”)  And now, after the best-ever grilled cheese, wearing new shoes, freezing in the kitchen while the heater is heating up, I have put on Ravi Shenkar while I grade quizzes and daydream.

It’s been a confusing time, these past two months, having the huge joys of passing my oral and getting another poem published, having my committee tell me that if I don’t get my thesis published it will be my fault—and then having these large anxieties and griefs about health, deaths.  Last night we slept so well, but the two nights previous we didn’t.  I’m not sure what a panic attack is, but maybe Marshall’s been having them.  Either that, or some other thing.  We’re having to be conscious and intentional about finding ways to relieve stress…and I begin to wonder if this isn’t part of adulthood in general?  I don’t suppose you stop experiencing change, or suffering, but you certainly can’t live well (thrive, etc.) with a lot of anxiety.  The Sermon on the Mount—if it’s possible—continues to mean more and more, to us.  Why should we worry about tomorrow, when tomorrow is already worrying about its own things?

I’m appreciating yoga more and more, too, with its grateful observance of the present moment.

When I graduate, I want to get a puppy.