A question

How do you have a Sabbatical, not leave town, and still work? This is the question of the hour after Suzanne recommended that I think about it. I haven't felt like talking much lately and I'm tired and forgetting things. So I'm contemplating taking a Sabbatical this summer from e-mails and phone calls, planning and joining, volunteering and signing up. Just not sure how to do it and not leave town.

I guess I'll just have to claim it if I want it and practice "no, thank you" being a complete sentence. Who wants that long ass justifying explanation anyway? Not me.

Here's a poem from our poet laureate, Kay Ryan, called Doubt. Thank you to my co-worker Sarah K. for introducing me to her.

A chick has just so much time
to chip its way out, just so much
egg energy to apply to the weakest spot
or whatever spot it started at.
It can't afford doubt. Who can?
Doubt uses albumen
at twice the rate of work.
One backward look by any of us
can cost what it cost Orpheus.
Neither may you answer
the stranger's knock;
you know it is the Person from Porlock
who eats dreams for dinner,
his napkin stained the most delicate colors.