Work is really depressing at the moment. Layoffs, budget tightness, missed deadlines and the general feeling that the CEO thinks employees are not humans - they are just workers. My eyes have recovered, but my throat is still sore and hurts every time I swallow.

This should be the time that brings out the best in the writer. There is conflict, adversity, suffering. The artist is starting to be tortured - and we all know the necessity of pain for inspiring a writer. Hmmmmmmm. That gives me an idea. Maybe I should create a school for producing world-class poets. I'd have to make sure that students couldn't escape. If there was an easy escape from the suffering they couldn't produce their best work. This school would be a life-changing experience for the students - a grueling, tempering and refining of the mollycoddled 20th century child into either a deep-thinking, self-reliant sage or a jibbering wreck (depending on the outcome of the cathartic final exam). Either path could be said to produce great poets.