...I would be writing about my experiences. Briefly. In-depth. With humor or seriousness. I'd put it all down here and send it out into the world.
But I'm here. At home. In my office at the keyboard. I returned from work at 1:30 am; it's now after 3:00 am. I must get to bed so I can get up to go workout with the trainer and then to the chiropractor and then. Then, yes, back to work.
And write. Somewhere in here I have to write. I do write. I grab moments in the car when I arrive at a job early. Notes as I'm leaving my therapist's office so I remember the important thing we discussed because I will probably forget it by the time I reach my car. The note scribbled to myself as I was teaching; a note for them (the students) to remember to do or say or give them X and a note for me about something I want to remember or write about. Right now I've nearly done away with the neat journal with the strap, which I love to use (I use the Pentallic A La Modeskin, the less expensive version of the Moleskins), and have gone back to regular ol' spiral notebooks for now, because I'd rather carry one of those with a bit of everything tossed into it, than three or four different notebooks (one for teaching, one for writing, one for revising and I forget the fourth -- oh, yeah, nutrition and exercise).
The writing workshop I've been participating in ends this week. Except I did already sign up for the next round, which will start in April.
And I have submitted two more pieces of writing to publications and am looking for the most appropriate venue for two more. Things are moving!
Last night I also stepped into the visual artist role and made a little totem for me to carry with me. A reminder. I was going to make a collage to represent this image; but decided I needed something I could actually have with me since it came from one of those therapy session phrases that I kept forgetting.
There it is - a quick update. From the home office.