I really need to write the introduction for my poetry book—Paradoxical Glory—which is coming out, like, this month. But I have so many funny anecdotes to tell. But also I should be writing, so I'm just going to share this very, very brief story.
The other night, Andrew climbed into bed, put his head on his pillow, snuggled under the covers.
"I'm so tired," he said. "I could fall asleep right here."
I was still brushing my teeth, so I popped my head around the bathroom door, saw him in bed, and started laughing.
"What?" he asked.
"That is literally the intended purpose for that particular piece of furniture, so..."
I mean, if you're going to fall asleep somewhere, that's a pretty good place to do it.
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