Busyness. Business.

Can some one gallop up on a white horse and save me?

Whisk me away to that far away land, where papers, readings, meetings, panels, presentations are all irrelevant.  Where the very idea of them melt away like a lone snowflake on my outstretched tongue.

I want to wake up as a queen on a canopy bed, well-rested, enveloped in the decadence of silken sheets.

I want to look in the mirror and find my eyebrows perfectly tweezed, my skin flawless and glowing.

I want to open my door and look outside to see a field of bright, wild sunflowers.

I want to take my guitar out of that gig bag and let every chord I strum be perfect, melodious, sonorous.

I would like to be able to speed read, no, even better, just place my hand on a book, close my eyes and telekinetically soak in the contents in a matter of seconds.  I want Microsoft Word to be a mind reader.  I can just lean my forehead against my laptop screen, and Word will write my papers in professional, academic, grammatically impeccable Spanish by absorbing my thoughts.

I want to do everything, get it all done, but I can't.  I have to blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, and then I have to yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda, after that I'll still have this and that and the other left to do. It's not even worth enumerating.

Last.  Semester.  Of.  Coursework.

And don't let me get dengue fever if a mosquito bites me in Cuba.  And don't let a sinewy, rum drinking, cigar smoking, cafe con leche, curly-haired Cuban with fire in his dark eyes and sugar cane sweet words seduce me.

Tomorrow (well, seeing that it is after 12:00 a.m., today) let me see my life with a cherry on top even if it's rainy and cold.