The Paul Newman photo has nothing to do with anything. I just like it (despite the smoking). I intended to blog all summer, but I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I worked, did some editing, and very recently, went through hell over a health scare (husband). That’s still up in the air, but hopefully will get better.
It’s probably been one of my lamer summers. Vacation called off, too little writing, too little travel, very little just picking up and going out for fun. For the first time in about seven years, I don’t have a book coming out. Actually, I don’t have one contracted. Not even finished. But I needed the break badly.
So, back at work on lunch hour with clueless new students wandering around, dressed somewhat stupidly (mostly the girls who don’t get that high heels and grad school don’t really go together). A noticeable increase in skateboarders. I think I may get mine out of the closet and see how that goes over.
I’m taking two dance classes–and lactic acid is my drug of choice right now. It reminds me my body still works, and though out of shape, is capable of being reconfigured.
And despite the somewhat dour tone of this, I’m not terribly unhappy. I burnt a bridge that needed a major collapse, I formed a few new interesting connections, and I really learned how little the Internet RomanceWeb means to me. Again, I’m not sure what I’ll do next, but I’m not afraid of not going back and dipping in the same old stagnant well.