I think I might actually be getting a slight suntan. Or burn. Or maybe it's just that I'm developing some freckles from being in the sun. Either way, it's better than that glow in the dark with a greenish cast skin I usually have hiding under my clothes. Seriously. They could use my skin as reflectors for bicycles.

Today was a lazy day. Edits are finished and I have a new book coming out next month. Two more in the works, and one clanging around inside my head clamoring for some substance. It's what I do. I write.

The last two winters have been filled with sorrow and horror, and I haven't exactly been pounding out the stories. But I have grown. I'd rather not have been forced to, actually, but there you go. Changes happen and we can either go along and learn and grow, or we can swim in bitterness, anger, and hopelessness until we die.

Sometimes I don't know how I keep going. Sometimes I want to crawl into a dark corner of my mind and curl up with my thumb in my mouth. But I'm here. I'm still breathing, and I still have hope.

Good for me.



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