Last Saturday, I told you that my Muse of Silliness and Senseless Verse had taken a leave of absence.  Well, she has returned, but not in very good shape.  She spent too much time at the frat party over at the Greeks across campus.  She told me she had been invited by the president of the illustrious frat IKB (Iota Know Better).  She wasn’t listening very well when he introduced himself, because she told me that if she had heard him say his name, Hedylogos, she never would have fallen for him.

Mnemosyne, her grandmother, tried to warn her, and even had another young man call her and ask her to join him at the party.  My Muse didn’t want to listen to her Gran, and besides, the date her Gran had in mind was “icky” (her word) – Epiphron!  He’s the one that always shows up at parties with his sister Eusebeia.  Now her Gran won’t let her forget her mistake.  Mnemosyne is like that. . . Her mom, who had suggested she go with Geras, is still not speaking to her because of what her grandmother told her mother.  “Geras!” My muse spat those words out at me when she returned last night.  “Can you believe my mother wanted me to go to a party with Geras?  I mean, it’s not as if I don’t have to spend my every working day with you already!”  (I have tried not to feel insulted.)

There is a lot of really big, fat, Greek weeping going on in my muse’s household.  So she has come back here to dry out.

I know you would like to know the name of my muse.  She has not let me divulge her name in the past, but as one of the steps in any good 12-step program is to admit your weakness, she is now going to allow me to tell you that she is the offspring of Polyhymnia and Melpomene. . .and Thalia and Euterpe.  Muse love can be confused love.  She once mentioned to me the possibility of another couple who joined in on the fun, but she has not divulged their names.  Anyway, her name is Polymethpoterliamnia (PO-lee-METH-po-TER-lee-AM-nee-AY).  Now you know why I just call her my Muse, or Poly, for short.  She doesn’t mind.

So, on this Muse day Tuesday, there is not much writing, rhyming, singing, or hymnodizing going on.  Quite a bit of moaning, however! (And unfortunately aspirin doesn’t work well for muses.)  I’ll forgive her this time, but really!  The next time she equates me with Geras I’m going to find out the name of the other couple and I’m letting that cat out of the bag.  (I’ve heard rumors that Lyssa and Mania might have been in on her procreation. . .)

Once I nurse my muse out of this hangover, I expect to be back in form.  For today, this is it, and will have to be enough. . .

(wc 483)