Hail Monday

At least I was inside when the hail came — Gene was in the parking lot at the grocery store (the nice picture comes from Zimbop). Lights have been blinking here at my office, but haven’t gone out, so here I stay. Busy, so here’s some inspiring words from inimitable Dorothy Parker for your delectation:

Symptom Recital

I do not like my state of mind;
I’m bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn’s recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I’m disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I’d be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men….
I’m due to fall in love again.

2 Comments

  1. Gene K. says:

    > I’m due to fall in love again.Should I be worried…?

  2. K. A. Laity says:

    Would it be with anyone but you? Why do you question it?

Comments are closed.