Newton. That bastard.

In the last month or so, I have:

• Gotten a ridiculous amount done at work
• Written two papers for school and the outline for a third
• Done I-don’t-know-how-many homework assignments
• Managed (in tandem with John) to keep the house from exploding (no small feat when it is also home to four furry critters)
• Thrown our big household party of the year

In the last month or so, I have not:

• Written a short story
• Photographed anything of note
• Blogged meaningfully
• Done any significant amount of knitting (we shall not speak of the spinning which has not happened, nor the designing)

In other words, the work, the school, and the life stuff have taken over – seemingly permanently, and while I still may rebel to stand and shout, “There are four lights!” I feel that the creative part of my little corner of the world is… crumbly.  Perhaps crispy.  It certainly isn’t lush and vibrant just now.  I have only my internal assurance to know that it even exists.

And I have what may amount to a hubristic faith in that assurance.  So thanks for sticking with me.