February first. Met with snow this morning. I’m now the only one in the office, everyone else having left to beat the traffic, which will be dangerous and insane at 5 PM. People do not know how to drive in snow around here. I’m left here alone to think about my February resolution. 28 days. I can do this. I can do this. It will be difficult on February 4; all other days, I believe I have what it takes to do this. I pulled a sneaky and started a couple days early. So I couldn’t talk myself out of it.

I am working on an assignment given to me by a friend. It’s been almost a month, and I feel like every pore is clogged when I think of this assignment. It’s been in the way of other work, work that I keep feeling I could begin if I could clean the slate. I must finish this poem. The phone at work isn’t ringing. Perhaps… perhaps…

I’m subbing in for David Roderick’s intro class today. David is off doing other things. Those things are important. I am thinking about David. I hope the snow is not disrupting those things. Snow tends to disrupt so much around here.

Dug a hole in the back yard last night, after everyone was asleep. Seemed like a good plan; I vaguely remembered a dream I’d once had of coming out on the opposite end of the earth. But hit a layer of tough clay and had to stop. Didn’t even fetch the water table. Embarrassing. Like every other thing I’d tried to do, and fallen short. In the light of day, I cannot bear this hole: its ragged shallow, its unfulfilled promise. I’ll advertise it this afternoon with a sign: To China. If anyone passes by, I’ll assure them that it’s real. If anyone attempts the journey, I’ll tell them, “Just dig another foot or two. You’re almost there.” When they give up, I’ll console them with my own failure. But if they never do…

Chris Tonelli’s mom met my mom last night, and quite by chance, they discovered that we sons are also connected. How funny to have happened upon his chapbook a year ago quite by chance, and to now be trading e-mails about our mothers.