The sound of folding

I'm out of money for Spring Break. That sounds like a ridiculous statement, I know, but it's true. If I use the same budgeting scheme I use every other month, then, thanks to a couple of particular purchases while my girlfriend was here, and thanks to a surprise trip to a restaurant last night, I now have no money to spend for the rest of break. Whoops. I'll probably end up withdrawing more money, but, really? Am I that bad at holding onto cash?

Today is music and poker, I believe. Martin's picking me up at some point and we're going to take the day practicing music. It should be fun. I'm a little tired right now, but I'm going to take a shower, get dressed, eat lunch and drink some tea. I should be good to go after that.

I just realized that I didn't post a poem last Thursday. I'm sorry for forgetting, I had a lot on my mind. The next day I had to take a test in my digital electronics class. Like I mentioned in a previous post, I think I did pretty well, but I guess we'll find out soon, as midterms were due ... yesterday? Today? Sometime next week they'll get posted, I'm guessing. Mac is really bad at deadlines, because professors are really bad at deadlines. I mean, just look at most research projects. :p

Anyways, I should probably post a poem! ::rummage rummage rummage:: Oh, on a side note, I cut myself opening up my patio door this morning, but I now have fresh air in my apartment!! Alright, this poem is currently titled Winter '09, just because that's when I wrote it and I can't think of another name. I like it, but I'm not quite sure yet what it's missing... the poem is in italics on this page, but the original has italicized portions, so those are the non-italicized portions of text.

The sidewalks are so slippery,
I stumbled and slid
But instead of a scowl I couldn't
Help but smile wide.
I step out onto the street
And the world is so
Less than a block away
The details melt into silence, like
An MC Escher sketch where
You have to ask
What was just up ahead?

My ears are covered in it –
The sound of sand sliding in the air is
Like the flush of skirts and shirts
As my mother searches for me,
Hiding in the clothes racks
At the department store.
Spinning in circles,
Head tossed back, soft specks
On my cheeks, like a white gown surrounds me
And I remember that
This is the whole world,
Right here.