1 a.m.

Dear sweet readers, tonight’s title song, “You’re My Star” by the Stereophonics, is one I include here as a thank you to a reader on Blip.fm. He sends it to me when I head for my writer’s cave. I’ve become quite fond of it.

It’s one in the morning and I have nothing to say. Usually this is prime writing time for me, but I have reached a transition point. It’s time to sit and ponder: what has gone before, what can come after. I’m rather happy to say that I’ve had no time to truly ponder, which isn’t usual, but the Universe has seen fit to send friends to drag me out into the world, a place I seldom go except as a way to get to the gym, the shaman, the doctor. But for two days I have enjoyed wonderful food, wine, and real conversation, my favorite form of recreation. Tomorrow evening I get to do it again, and I get to talk about my work, too. It still astounds me that this should happen.

At this point I have no ready-for-prime-time thoughts to share here, not even any not-ready-for-prime-time thoughts. Everything I could say is a rooted in an old life, and that life fell away somewhere between Thursday’s shamanic work and yesterday’s blog post. I felt it go. I’m not sure what that means. I do know that I have allowed my life to spin out of balance or, wait, maybe the out of balance part is just the old life falling away. It is still too early to tell. This is why I’m happy that I’ve been out in the world, for had I been home, I would have spun my wheels trying to sort out what is not ready to be sorted and I would have stranded myself in mud.

So for now, know that I plan to review and input the edits I made to the next chapter, just as soon as I find them. My life, and my apartment, looks like a hurricane hit it; change is messy, very messy.


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