Life's like an elevator

The thing about Life is that there is always something better going on in someone else's Life -- and always something far worse. After a while you're left in the position of "these are my shoes and this is my road and they're comfortable enough shoes and a pretty enough road." And some days they're dancing shoes. This isn't that day. But tomorrow might be. Ya never know.


Meanwhile I have shelved the pending short fiction because I'm going through a 'why bother' stage that needs to work itself out on its own time, and think I've figured out how to attack the revisions of the current book, which will give me enough to chew over for the next few months, anyway. Meanwhile, I am told that revisions on HARD MAGIC will be "very light" but landing soon. There's also some freelance work I need to get to, but it's a familiar project and shouldn't eat too much of my brain for too long.

After the past week or so, I am very much looking forward to being All About Writing for a while (do you hear that, Universe? Writing. So get the rest of this shit dealt with and back on track already!). What is the average emotional life of a crisis, anyway, before it just becomes SSDD?

And now I have to do laundry and forage something to eat (half a brisket sandwich and a handful pretzel rods go only so far) and order groceries and...