A Poetic Interlude

When I was a kid watching TV, K-Tel records used to offer the greatest hits of music "legend" ("has-been") Connie Francis. She'd croon:

I'm sorry/
So sorry...

I never learned the rest of the song, 'cause that was the extent of that clip. But it comes to me now, and in my head, I sing:


I'm tired/
So tired...

Then I stop. How does the rest of the song go? Beats me. So a few seconds later, I'm back to:

I'm tired/
So tired...

Tired enough that, when I kissed Simon good-bye this morning, I said, "Good-night, Honey. See you in the morning." Sleepy enough to doze off in my chair at the supper table. It shouldn't be a big deal: to get Sara to Guadalupe Summer Camp on time, I just have to set the alarm for about 45 minutes earlier than usual. However, since I was generally on pretty tight sleep-rations, I am now realizing just how much those 45 minutes meant to me.

BUT! I'm taking tomorrow off. It's my July hike-date with Si. I wan't cait. I mean I can't wait. And even sooner than tomorrow, I'm looking forward to tonight. I have a HOT date with my bad. I mean bed. I need to be a leeeeetle bit more rested before I can think about "bad".

Oh for Pete's sake! I've just remembered, as I sit here in a fog that, if I'm going hiking tomorrow, I need to do something about my boots. I wonder if I can squeeze in a trip to REI after supper tonight. I either have to deal with the fit issues in my boots or....suck it up and buy new boots.

Now I'm rambling as well as slurring. Just to make sure that this posting is irredeemable, I'll conclude with some Redneck Haiku. I have to say that these are not as funny as Spamku, but they're all right.

Beauty
Naked in repose
Silvery silhouette girls
Adorn my mudflaps

Desire
Damn, in that tube-top
You make me almost forget
You are my cousin

Deprived
In KMart toy aisle
Wailing boy wants 'rassling doll
Mama whups his butt