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I'm Still Here

So there I was a couple weeks ago, worrying about not having enough hours at school and enjoying my free afternoons and/or mornings to settle into the new place and work on the SMART goals that I'd set for myself in my writing workshop:

  1. Write 500 words of new fiction a day. That doesn't include blogging, journaling, emails, and letters to the producers of Fox News expressing my distaste for over-botoxed, over-bleached, condescending sorority girls female anchors.

  2. Read at least one novel every two weeks. I'd been reading tons of short stories of late, and I knew that if I got into the MA program, the reading list would be fairly heavy; along the lines of a novel a week for the first two terms (twenty weeks). Being a charter member of the ADD book club, I tend to have 4-5 books going on at one time and if they don't thrill me, they don't get finished. In training for school, it's now about finishing what I start (even if I don't like it) and plowing through.

  3. Two new stories submitted, one by the end of June and one by the end of August.

And so, except for the not working part, all was going fairly well.

And then I got accepted into the MA program. Yay me!

And then I happened to mention that to one of the bosses at school and said I'll be needing to work this summer to make money for grad school.

And then I got my new timetable. I'm teaching from 9.00-12.00, 12.15-1.15, and 1.30-4.30. That's actual classroom time, not counting prep, photocopying, paperwork, etc.

And then I stopped blogging.

And then I started getting emails from concerned friends/readers/bill collectors.

All is well, I'm just a little tired. As for my goals, I've done really well on the reading (have finished Anne Tyler's A Patchwork Planet and Evelyn Waugh's Scoop and just started Neil Gaiman's American Gods). The writing was stellar up until the middle of last week, when I sort of crashed.

I know that scribbling is important, but sometimes one just has to retreat into House and Life on Mars. Especially when one is starting to feel at home in the new digs (it took a while, but it really is getting comfortable here.)

But crashing is only temporary and I'm rebooting myself back into the game. Thanks to those of you who emailed asking if I'd died. Apparently my lack of response did nothing to alleviate your fears, as Larry's received a small surge of sympathy cards and floral arrangements regarding my alleged demise.

Not that he's noticed, poor thing is playing one-man water polo in the deep end of the new job. But at least he's getting little recognition. Check out page 10 of the Wealth Bulletin in today's Wall Street Journal. A quote and everything! We're all very proud.

And P.S. to whoever sent the 'congratulations, he's finally gone' note ... that was well out of order.