And Gutenberg Lived Here: When The Ides Of Janus With Their Shoures Soote The Droghte of Stephanus Hath Perced To The Roote…

Here it is,

almost the ides of January,

that time of year when the Brutus-like Christmas bills stab you in the back,

the people  you work with actually expect creativity-

creativity-

What?

Did they have too much eggnog and

soaked-for-six-months-in-a-bottle-of-Irish-Whiskey

grandmaw Serelda’s famous fruit cake?

Or divinity fudge?

Can’t be too careful about Aunt Elizabeth’s divinity fudge.

Makes people expect you to be….

Ah yes.

Creativity.

That Starts with “Cripes, why did I start this project?”

and ends with “Y oh Y did I believe if I took the high road

I would write the great American novel,

finish the new Symphony Fantastique

lose 10 pounds,

or so,

turn out a new generation of genius linguists,

and discover the road to spiritual wellbeing,

wealth, happiness, inner peace, and…

So anyway, here we are again-

nearly two weeks into the new year,

walls to be painted

mountains to be climbed,

and a blog about the beauties of early January creativity

dying slowly in the face of

someone asking what to do with a giant carp

they couldn’t kill after all on New Years’ Eve?

(why did they ask me?? do they think I keep a hundred pound carp in the bathtub

all year

and charge admission?)

Ah yes, the imponderabilities of life.

And then there are taxes,

errands,

Mardi gras,

and…gasp…

math conferences…

all approaching with the inevitable thumping sound

of a legion of Daleks approaching…

“Exterminate, exterminate”

and me trying to find a suitable,

and cheerful,

and hopeful

end to a blog about New Years resolutions

and what becomes of them in only a few short days

should you be so courageous as to make any

in the face of…

Hey, what was the topic again?

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