What it is.

With the historian gone, I am fully into the stay-up-way-too-late mode that is apparently what I revert to when I'm on my own. Go ahead--call me at 1 a.m., I'm up. But you might want to wait till . . . oh, let's say ten before you call in the morning. I am slightly disgusted with myself, but why should I be? Because I got a whole lot done today:

• went through every poem line by line
• tentative new organizational plan
• full draft of difficult poem

I rode on my bike to get the paper, read it, did the crossword, did all the laundry, hung it out on the line, made an awesome dinner. I also took a mind-clearing bike ride in the middle of drafting the difficult poem.

Right now, I'm hanging with Stephen Colbert, because there's no one else to hang with. (I also hung with Tina Fey and Tracy Morgan earlier.)

I thought I would offer you a guided tour of this domicile, because I think you need to have a better picture in your minds of where I am. I know you've been wondering.