hiding.

I've been hiding out at morgan's house, with a dog and the computer I just got back from the apple store, trying to make order out of chaos. I recovered a lot more material than I thought I would find, including several published pieces, my entire thesis manuscript, my first story ever about SF, and the draft of a wonderful flash piece I was hoping to recover so that I could send to to a journal who was really, truly hoping to publish my oaklandish flash piece but got there several months too late. So today is editing that piece back to polished, sending it to the editor, and keeping my fingers crossed.

Here's the thing: I need to find a new place to live. By the end of this month. With a dog, it's tricky. I'm trying to take my own advice to a friend and not stress out about the things I can't control but really, I've just had shit luck since december 18th and if you work with me or know me and think I have been sad or grumpy it's true and I am trying really hard to be more positive. There are a few bright spots in the whirling fog and work is one. Even if I'm only cleaning down the bakeshop at the end of the night rockin out to Crimson and Clover. Work is my rock in the middle of all this messiness and I am so thankful to feel that way about a workplace. It's unusual for me.

I'll be at the RADAR reading series this thursday gettin my writers' groove on, knitting some handwarmers and checkin out the pretty girls. I'll be at work most every night. I try to spend most of my time out of the house. But hiding out in others' houses means I'm hiding from the problems at home and that isn't good either. So I'm forcing myself to get the things in order and do the hard work of moving on for the third time in a year.