I haven't been on here in a few months. Work, work, work. It should be "write, write, write." There's been a little bit of the writing, and some editing, but not as regular as I should be. The poems are coming along though, even if I am backing off from them in order to drag it out, make it last longer so I won't be left with a finished book and no idea what to write next.
Michael keeps reminding me I will know, it will come to me. I know I am having the same fear he was having back in October. He's begun his second book and its going to be a grander scale, but with his theme he can do that. The first book basically begs for the persona to continue. Life is growth.
Speaking of growth, I should be doing more. Out more. But I look at my bank account and say, you can't do anything because you'll spend too much and then you're going to be screwed. I wish a Mary Poppins of Finances existed. *snap snap* Your debt problems are gone.
And I have some fabric art ideas, but I can't seem to bring myself to stay in the artroom and MAKE something. Instead, I watch Buffy or Angel episodes over again, and I sometimes work on a bit of writing, but the writing work isn't with the fervor I should have.
Something's got to give. My evenings are dull. Sometimes I make it down to Red Cup and enjoy the music on Friday evenings, some coffee, work on writing new drafts or editing all day on a Saturday old drafts... But it's not like when in Berea when someone walks in and I recognize them and either we chat a moment or I end up overhearing part of the chatter with the barista, etc., etc. I still don't know people here outside of work.
Ok. Back to work. Hmph.
