Stirrings From Whatever Cave I've Been Hiding In

I feel as though I've been living in a cave since my feature at the Poets Asylum, sort of locked into a cycle of intense work (the job I'm paid for, of course, as well as the whole writing thing, both of which have been unusually demanding this past week and change) punctuated by trash TV at ungodly hours. (Except for Sunday, where I missed Trevor's going-away feature for a wedding. But it was a very nice wedding.)

Sometimes, when I get this buried, I realize that I am barely cognizant of the ...