I've already failed at my blogging resolution. I have however, been successful in the stop-picking-my-nails resolution thus far. Baby steps. 

I'm attempting to write a poem for my Imaginative Writing class about a cup thrown by my mom. It's about the cup, but I really think it's about mom, or even me. The themes in my head are all so beautifully layered and intertwined. My poem open in my word processor, however, is no more beautiful or artistic than crap flung on a wall by monkeys. 

I just caught myself picking at my thumbnail. 

Shoot.