I completed Poetics Aside’s April Poem-A-Day Challenge 2009, having written 30 poems in the last 30 days. I’m exhausted both mentally and physically (more on that in a few days — it’s my sprained ankle, basically). I set out to write at least 5 poems, and I wrote 6 times that number. Yay!!!

It was really frickin’ awesome. You have to go see it! Enough said.

So as some of you know, when I started out doing this PAD Challenge, my goal was to write 5-10 poems. If I’m able to continue at my pace, I’ll have written a total of 30 in 5 more days. It seems like forever since I posted about reaching my goal of 5. Then 15 or 16.

It’s a weird feeling. I feel elated and yet…I don’t know…[insert negative emotion here] at the same time. It especially doesn’t make sense because I can’t put my finger on what that negative feeling is. Maybe a bit of disgust at not having written in so long, and blaming the ECT for it (though I’m positive that, the anxiety, and the depression didn’t/don’t help)? Completely cutting myself off, deliberately, from my former literary circle from shame, maybe? Or maybe because I’m not totally well yet?

OK, enough. I’m doing exactly what I recently mentioned that my therapist is trying to get me not to do: not give myself credit for the work I’ve done. And for me, that work isn’t just the writing but the steps I’ve taken to get to this point. To write again. Blah blah. I don’t want to sound cheesy.

Anyway, I’m slowly beginning to be a part of that circle of writers again. I even joined AWP, of which I haven’t been a member for about 6 years. I don’t know how they got my current address, but when I got the notice in the mail, I took that as a sign.

What I want to know is why I’m an ottava rima?

Since today’s Earth Day, I decided to take the el to buy cat food. OK, to be honest, I just didn’t feel like driving, and it’s such a gorgeous day out and my ankle was fine enough to walk the 4 blocks to the el stop and back.

As for taking the el on a regular basis, well, we’ll see. I was just annoyed that my old fare card expired. There was at least $10 on it, too!

See more progress on: start taking public transportation again

According to Second City Cop, Da
Mayor, that droning, motley-minded nut-
hook, hath proclaimeth Thursday nigh,
be “Speaketh Like Shakespeare Day.”
And, pray tell, why wouldst we doeth this?