so what you wish for won't come true. you aren't surprised love, are you?

nothing like guster to get you started in the morning and then some ben folds singing and piano-playing tiny dancer. sigh.

reached my goal for this week (biked in twice). feels so nice. only eight more weeks to go. i'm not really counting the last week of school because i'll only be here one day. holy moly, only eight weeks of school left? madness.

Happy First Day of Spring! isn't that splendid?

well, back to the grading i'm struggling to finish. today's the last day of the term, and grades are due wednesday. i've a lot of work to do.

before i go. here's a poem and my hope that it'll be me one day gazing across the breakfast table at another like so (and knowing it's much more than meat and bone; it's possible to love and be loved forever, for longer than our earthly sojourns):

Love Poem With Toast

by Miller Williams

Some of what we do, we do
to make things happen,
the alarm to wake us up, the coffee to perc,
the car to start.

The rest of what we do, we do
trying to keep something from doing something,
the skin from aging, the hoe from rusting,
the truth from getting out.

With yes and no like the poles of a battery
powering our passage through the days,
we move, as we call it, forward,
wanting to be wanted,
wanting not to lose the rain forest,
wanting the water to boil,
wanting not to have cancer,
wanting to be home by dark,
wanting not to run out of gas,

as each of us wants the other
watching at the end,
as both want not to leave the other alone,
as wanting to love beyond this meat and bone,
we gaze across breakfast and pretend.