Spring has sprung. And it hurts.

In my first playwriting workshop in college, the first thing we learned was not to make excuses for our writing. I subscribe to this principle faithfully.

But, because I love writing, and because I appreciate having readers at all, I feel obliged to explain the lack of writing. So please don't think of this as an excuse; it's a thanks in advance for your understanding.

Apparently, I'm allergic to things. This is new to me. I can choose a terribly itchy throat, so much that it wakes me up at 5am, or I can choose medication. Guess which one I choose.

While I'm loopy on allergy medication, I'm fretting over the two piles of papers I haven't had time to grade yet. I am quite behind.

AND, a professor is coming to observe my teaching on Tuesday. AND, I may not have a voice to teach. BUT, my students do adore me. In fact, one of the girls was late for class so she picked a daffodil for me on her way in. Am I allergic to daffodils? I don't think so.

Also, yesterday was the bridal shower for my future sister-in-law--which was fun for a lot of reasons, not the least of which being I got to fashion a hat and a bra out of paper plates, ribbons, and bows. The general consensus of the party was that it was the most impressive ribbon-hat and bra anyone had seen. We might just take that bra along for the bachelorette party. Pat Jill on the back. It even rivaled the Vera Wang-inspired wedding dress I improvisationally fabricated out of a roll of toilet paper at the last shower I went to. Someone call Heidi Klum and get me on Project Runway.

On a positive note, my play is evolving in my brain, and soon I will be able to focus on where I want to take it. Damon and Callie are back in full force, even if they are in isolation from one another. Therein lies the drama.

There is so much I want to write and so many things that I am excited about--including all of your questions--that my physical exhaustion and my other obligations are causing me to pout like a petulant child. I'll just chant "I love Mondays" until I fall asleep, and--I hope--wake up rested and ready to take on this week. Here's hoping that the 12-hour relief promise gets delivered upon.

So I leave you with this photo. The trees may be killing me, but at least I can make something pretty out of them. Happy Monday!