update on our house

as you may (or may not) be aware, we are currently living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment as a new house we purchased is being built. however, that new house was to have begun back in September but has been indefinitely delayed since. if it was begun on time, it would've been finished sometime around the end of February or the beginning of March. now, who knows.
we just heard word that our house is supposed to begin sometime within the next 45 days. if we go by this, and assume the worst (45 days), that would put the ground breaking at the end of January. six months for construction (at the minimum. more if we have a bad winter), and that puts the finish of our house at the end of July. that's five extra months living in this hellhole. christ!

i suppose it always can be worse.
ignore my complaints. at least the wife and i have our health, and a roof over our heads (which is no small thing when it's ten degree Fahrenheit outside with a skiff of icy snow on the ground).

the only thing about this whole situation, though, as it relates to my poetry, is that i don't feel at all like writing. ever since moving into this miniscule, infernal place, i've felt like all my energy is spent in trying not to get in my wife's way (or in finding a way to get her out of mine) that writing has become secondary or tertiary to that. i've written a few new poems, but nothing worth a damn. my output has dramatically decreased, my apathy about it has increased and the quality of my writing has plummeted. this happens, though. when i get more comfortable, with all my books and typewriters and other accoutrements out of storage; when i can set up my little writing space; when we finally move out of this little place, then it'll all come back.
i hope.