"But Mary--she has no talent, and I don't know what she will do to make a living" --Warren Wilkins

One week of married life and I don't feel all that different. The boy apologizes to me: "Everyone at work asks if I feel different, but really the only difference is that I'm wearing a ring." Yeah, that's kinda it. I mean, we have a bunch of new kitchen gadgets and some matching bed linens, but aside from that what more was I really hoping for? The boy said he'd be sad the day cards and presents stopped showing up on our door. I agree--so much work to be over with so quickly. But I'm not as sad as I thought I might be at the end of all of this. I still have too much to worry about. The wedding was just one stressor to be crossed off on a list. Now I'm returning to the world of thesis writing and over-caffeinated mornings in front of a computer screen and a stack of New England fiction. Then it's finding a job. Or rather, finding a job is sporadically spread out throughout the thesis writing process. It's that whole which came first kind of thing. To get a real job I need to finish my thesis, but to eat I need a real job. Ach.

Yesterday's mail: more rejection letters, wedding card with $50.
Today's mail (hopefully): free porn, wedding card with $50, sample of KY warming lotion