If there are any readers left, greetings readers!
I can’t blame you if you left. What a horrible writer I’ve been the last three months (more? I lost count, and anyway I forgave myself already for not writing and frankly I’ve hinted at how freaking busy I’ve been so you know what, back off and cut me some slack and – oh, wait, if you’re reading now you have cut me slack and you’re still here reading and I should say instead: hey there, long time no see!)
My plate is full. And the plate I’m referring to is the metaphorical one on which are piled the portions filling my belly these days and not the plates which are sticky and unwashed on the counter from last night. Though both represent the current state of things with me. I have calculus three nights per week and a three hour Physical Geography class every Saturday morning and homework on nights I’m not in class. Somehow I still find the time to watch The Tudors (soap operas for the history lover?) and brew beer with the Monkey. Oh and work.
Speaking of work, they asked me to stop being late. Which means leaving before 9 am each day and, more injurious, leaving alone instead of walking with the Monkey as far as the metro station where he goes and I grab a bus. Nope, now I kiss him goodbye while he’s still in the tub, my coffee half drunk and pants unironed, and get to work at the acceptably late 9:18 or so. Now I could change my workday schedule to a marriage-friendly 10-6, but that danged calculus class is at 5:30, so no-go. Maybe next semester.
I miss writing. A lot. In my dream world, I quit my job, take 4 classes/semester and find writing gigs on food system issues to cover tuition. Of course, in the Monkey’s dream world, he quits his job too. So, no-go. Maybe next life.