i was fired for the first time

on poem-in-your-pocket day;


or rather, let go—dropped, free-falling.

perhaps fired is better: lit up, burned,


refined. there is no paper in my

pocket, but there is always a poem;


and even on this day, i am

going to write myself out of


my misery-worry and ride that

sudden drop of uncertainty,


that guttural buzz of

—anything can happen next—


and it will. and it always does.

next year at this time, on poem-in-


your-pocket day, i’ll be in a brand

new place, filling up my brimming


pockets with brand new

words, words, words.


born free (nine times)

Here I am in my third week of unemployment. Feels like the right time to take some inventory — on this, the day of independence.

I am most certainly ’employed’ — in writing, reading, drawing, walking, playing around on the piano, with my cat, with my kid, with my new phone. I’m even (gasp!) cooking and baking. In some ways, I feel more employed than ever. Or perhaps deployed?

Now if only I could get myself and my kid up and out of bed before noon.

But then again … why? (especially given that we were up until 4 a.m. having a ‘Lord of the Rings’ marathon complete with popcorn and freshly-baked brownies)

I’m reminded of the quintessential icon of independence in our house: Queen Charlotte.

Queen Charlotte

Charlotte is the symbol of doing what one wants, when one wants, without having to justify it to anyone.


Whether it’s sleeping, window gazing, eating my plants, or giving us the evil eye, Charlotte is in charge of her own life.


If I stopped feeding her, I am confident she would find a way to get outside and find her own food. She’s crafty like that.


And, so, on this day that signifies my favorite number and our country’s birthday, I am going to lock away the guilt (a useless emotion, as noted by a very wise friend) in a very large strongbox and do what I want to do, when I want to do it — i.e., walk downtown in the rain with my kid and watch a matinee of ‘The Great Gatsby’ followed by Splendora’s salted caramel gelato and some festive fireworks.

Speaking of which, this hilarious pic posted by The Feline Friends Cat Sanctuary in my hometown of Massachusetts as a reminder to keep all pets indoors during this raucous celebration is what got me thinking about cats in the first place:


Happy 4th!

Be safe. Be yourself. ~