A co-worker suggested I move closer to the job and spare myself the daily zombie run. A fine idea, but besides having bought a home in Long Beach years ago, Los Angeles for me has too many toos–too many people, too many cars, too many rude drivers, too many buffoons on the City Council, and too expensive.
Maybe my memory is feathering away, or I’m just longing for summer’s sun, but this Spring seems colder than in previous years, colder than what we’re used to in Southern California, and the cold is lasting longer. Last night’s storm wind raised such a buffeting racket outside among the trees, Levi perked on alert for awhile, no doubt wondering if he ought to find a secure hidey-hole from the monster prowling the ramparts.
Worked on the workshop agenda this week, wrote story notes on the fantasy noir, and read my March/April issue of Writer’s Digest. Did journal notes on A Lamentation of Swans and Loose Daddy too–the two manuscripts swoop in and out of my head like blackbirds on the wing.
Saturday is the 24-Hour story contest I signed up for–what was I thinking?