discordant notes

This morning we jogged early I was back in my flat by six-thirty From my tenth floor view of the Charles River basin, The morning was incandescently flushed by the peach-colored sun. The transparent clouds seemed stylistically stained, artfully workshopped, which offered a softened, Tiffany glass effect wholly worthy of worship. I can’t stop to admire it. I’m jamming things into suitcases. Cramming things into boxes, giving things away. I had a second interview Monday afternoon, for Johns Hopkins med school. They put the question to me: “The semester starts in 18 days - can you do that?” “Yes,” I replied, and just like that, I'm a Blue Jay. Of course, I had to withdraw from the masters program but Harvard gave me a full (95K) refund - I think they’re more excited about my med school admission than I am. I’m not afraid of discordant notes. They change the landscape. Take us to new emotional places. Any major work is going to have them. . . A song for this: Hang on Little Tomato by Pink Martini It's Amazing by Jem