burn baby burn

Our art director asked me if I knew where the fire was as I walked in this morning. I drove here practically still unconscious so I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but then realized he was right: it was hot and hazy and my eyes are burning which normally means something is burning somewhere. Did perfunctory email check (usually get notified of fires) and Internet search, but nothing so far. Fatigue this morning owing to combination of continued insomnia plus staying up too late. I was a judge last night at the Poetry Slam at Bar B, which was the slam that chose the Santa Fe team for the... um, semi-finals in Albuquerque? Nationals in Albuquerque? I don't know. Something. Discovered it's much easier to sit through several hours of spoken-word poetry if you get to hold up numbers judging the poets. Tony Santiago was unbelievably good. Still, wasn't home until 1230 or in bed until 130 and I have vague memories of looking at the clock hourly until giving it up at 730 and getting out of bed. This week I am on major cat-sitting patrol. One of my friends has two half-blind cats I am feeding twice a day. Another has a cat that likes to SCRATCH and needs to be given an antibiotic that HE DOESN'T WANT once a day. Clearly I am going to heaven for all this and/or being reincarnated as a fabulously wealthy beautiful person or, at least, a pampered dog. OK, better get the agenda ready for the morning's meetings. Vayos con dios.