Nor, In Thy Marble Vault, Shall Sound My Echoing Song

[mallorys_camera]

Spent yesterday morning designing a circus postcard to be sent out to media outlets and seething because goddamit, this isn't something I should have to do, this is something JD, the resident pixie and art director should have done. I can't draw! All I can do is paste & cut. Around noon I wandered over to the Little Store and we did inventory around a surprisingly steady trickle of customers for a foggy Thursday. I'm twisted and sick: I like doing inventory. I guess it appeals to my inner covetous dollhouse-maitresse. I have been thinking a lot about John Donne and Andrew Marvell, poets whom I lack the intellectual stamina to track down and actually read. In fact, I don't think I've read anything so far in 2006 beyond the Internet, the occasional National Enquirer, the Well and – of course! – www.defamer.com. I suppose that qualifies me as officially braindead.