Stressed today, can't quite say why. Lots of work I should be doing but am not. Went out drinking with friends, one of whom boarded a motorcycle with a strange fireman, the thrill of the night.

Need to teach myself to relax, never my stong point.

Read the Bret Lott Story in the newest Colorado Review. And the new Cole Swenson poems about gardens. Looking forward to her upcoming book about hands. Her work makes more and more sense.

Wrote a sad poem about my dog, who, I think, will have to be put to sleep soon.

Most things go well.