Vacation Over

It's official: my vacation's over.

For any of you that still might check in, a brief reason why....

When I started my new job, I gave myself a six month fucking around period -no pressures- while I learned my job, got a sense of the new area and learned to work again. I extended that another few months when I was reassigned to an intense project. Just this week, I had the "time's up" moment, get back to work.

The work. The stuff that matters. The writing and whatever habits it takes to support the writing. There are other distractions of course. The distractions damn near define me. Painting, musicing, pining, yearning. Lots of ings. Christ, I've even been swinging the golfing club.

The other reason why the vacation's over: my physical self is rocking. Another ing! After uping my synthroid dose a fair amount, I'm no longer physically crippled by pain. It's a bit of a miracle to feel like this after so many years of doing nothing but hurting. For those who have listened to me whine about this over the years, I thank you for listening. I wouldn't be here without you.

So when you talk with me, ask me how the novel's going. It will be going. You might not get much info from me other than productivity reports. What I'm writing about is A Big Secret. Pester me, my vacation's over.

Russell Banks says

"From the Beginning I've found that I have to speak past the internal censor who basically wants me to shut up and be silent, and the best way for me to get something said has been to move real fast. The faster I can write, the more likely I'll get something worth saving down...."

"The dreaming self has a more powerful memory than the conscious self."