Hi.
Um.
My last post was January 15, 2020.
I suppose I should have waited until the 15th to post, just to keep things tidy, or posted yesterday as another form of tidiness.
Have you met me?
Nothing has changed in my life that would explain why I stopped posting or why I'm posting now. I am hoping this isn't just me trying to start a New Year's resolution to be more connected but I am also hoping the amount of eggnog I drank in the last month will have absolutely no bearing on my weight so you can see I am deep in the last of unrealistic expectations.
I am still in my little town on the Oregon coast, still in the same library, still loving it and still very concerned that at some point my director is going to look at me and ask when I'm going to live up to her own unrealistic expectations.
Lockdown was similar for me as it was for most of you: we all had to stay home for a few weeks, there was dramatic rearrangement of the workfront, and then another and another, and for a while it was 4 day/10 hours weeks with two coworkers with a lot of distancing, and then it was 3 days in the library and 2 days WFH while in pods, so that if one pod went down, we could still be open.
We were briefly out of all that in the spring of 2021 and then because we can't have nice things we went back into pods for six months, and now we are back to a more regular schedule, library open all the usual hours, but I'm still on zoom for all of my programs.
On the home front, my siblings and I are now meeting online every three weeks, which is more than we have done since we were kids. As much as everyone hates zoom I think everyone is effing grateful to it because talk about right time right place, yeah?
And now it is 2022, and I am supposed to write 200K this year, but if that 200k were journal posts I think it is fair to say I would fail, fail utterly. I have a chance of not failing since it's fic, but I am also facing a perfection glacier that makes me want to rewrite or change pov's or change story or start a new branch of the same cast of characters and the result is I am no further along but I have bought a few more books on how to write, and I am confident that owning more books on reading is just about a guarantee that I will write more and better and finish stories.
Imagine if I actually read them.
And I hope I will read more of other people's journals. Also, I just bought some stationery so I might write thank-you notes for Christmas presents, and might even send them.
A girl can dream of wings, after all.