The thing about me, though, is that I do not just stop reading books.

I began drafting this post in front of a fire in my room in a lovely B&B in upstate New York.

(Should I share that on the internet? Whatever, I’m going to, please clap.)

Nothing dramatic, just a lot of flaring anxieties and stress on some days, followed by very nice moments to bring me back down to earth and make me believe in myself again.

All I wanted to do to close out the year was finish a book.

Also Merry Christmas! 🎄

Be gentle, be more understanding, etc. etc.

New Year’s resolution, here and now: actually fucking read.

In the spirit of the season, I’d like to present a list of thanksgiving.

My approach to NaNoWriMo—and, I expect, my writing approach going forward—has been what I call guerrilla writing.

Thoughts from the Dentist’s Chair, and other stories.

And, oh, but I do miss reading for pleasure.

I’m waiting for my therapist to send the Zoom link to start our session.

The check-tire light came on in my car yesterday while I was driving down the Grand Central.

This was the longest short week I’ve experienced in quite a while.

My reading time has not felt like my own for a little while now.

I know vacuuming isn’t always going to be a fix for combating negative thoughts, but I was glad to have it in my arsenal this week.

I enjoy being busy. I think I’m learning to thrive on it.

How many hours, how many pages, how many words.

The start of this week was a bit of a whirlwind.