As I'm writing my second novel (in a semistate of half-delusion with dreams of 'making it' out of the 9-5) in stolen fragments of mornings and lunch breaks, I find the chance to procrastinate by learning about, and subsequently fixating on, nearly everything under the sun. I write less poetry now than I used to, but I still find haiku in the stains on roadways. I try to have a book+audiobook (literature, classics, fantasy, scifi) on-hand whenever I'd otherwise get distracted. I like computers and painting and health too, but time is finite.