I have been working on submissions all day. It seems the drugs make me feel like I can write. I am asking for refills. I have been invited to do several workshops in the next few months. I really need to win some grants so I don’t have to sell the children. The medication makes me bitter. I think I might have been slightly bitter before but I am too idealistic to except my bitterness.

I miss the water. On my trip I saw a 600 pound bear, at first I thought it was a black cow on the side of the road then it stood on its hind legs. What a cool cow My friend who has lived in a city her whole life, who thank god was not driving, turned to me and said do we have any food to feed it?

My father used to guide hunting trips in the deep woods of Maine, sometimes he would take me along. I remember once, when I was seven, he had just finished cleaning up the mess of someone who actually thought a cow was a deer and he said in his deep, dad voice remember Teresa, the stupid always get eaten.

I have no idea if that is profound. I found a two year old can of French onion soup in the cupboard. I am happy.