I’m coming to the end of a busy busy couple days– instead of teaching my usual two classes this week, I had four classes, a faculty meeting (my first), and the first public reading for Ellen’s new book. Oh, also, I had two new staff members starting at the day job Monday, and Jeremy (Inch poetry editor) resigned his position from the day job Monday afternoon because he got a kick-ass offer from a marketing firm in Carrboro. I really thought, about mid-day Tuesday, that I was close to having a heart attack.

Last night, while watching Carolina basketball, I took a few deep breaths and realized that I’m lucky to be able to be so busy. I ate dinner with a student– my “office hours”– and we talked about the difference between a set of good poems and a good book for half an hour. I spent a good half an hour in a class just looking at Wendy Cope’s “The Orange.” I couldn’t have spent an hour like this a year ago, two years ago, five years ago. My day job is hectic and changing, but I have the opportunity to do good, socially responsible work (or blow it off to write in my lame-o blog). Ruba and I chatted about distance, absurdity and weight this morning. We traded poems; I sent Salerno and O’Hara, she sent Koch and Young. She made me laugh out loud when she signed off, “Boffo! I am having so much fun but I need to work on annotations.”

Last night, I was willing to argue that the Cope poem is too sentimental. Today, I am not sure.

And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all the jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I’m glad I exist.

– Wendy Cope