#goodhours

[alriight]

I had for my winter evening walk—

[faerygirls-blog]

We'll All Arrive in Heaven Alive

Medication has kicked in and I can type well and communicate again. Glory.

Finally emailed my old professor who keeps wanting me to apply for grad school. Have been trying to send that email for months.

Biggest obstacle in applying to my old school is the tight deadline and the only GRE date before it less than a month away (my test scores are out-of-date), with me needing to cram like a madwoman. Second biggest -- writing a statement of purpose that won't get blown off. The poems I have, whether they want them or not being another matter. She thinks I was good enough seven years ago, when the poetry faculty wasn't consulted and I didn't get accepted by the decision makers. But she's one poet. I just think if i can manage it without screwing it up, I might as well apply. Grad school would be good for my soul, and they have an additional teaching program for people who want to go that way, professionally (I do).

A friend gave me computer speakers and a subwoofer, so I've been basking in loud, articulated, nuanced music and finding my voice again -- the strong, clear one that anxiety and depression sucks the confidence out of.

I wish I didn't need to discover this over and over, that I won't be stuck in the dark places forever. But I have this clarity here, now, and that's good.