A Note Left to the Absinthe-minded …

It’s hard to believe that my last post was about a month ago. It’s not that I have a lot to say … rather I would often prefer not to bore my readership, but then again, where does the time go? September is upon us and summer wanes thin. Already I find myself mired in things to do.

Somewhere along the summer I forgot to do more of what I really wanted to do – write creatively, which is a large part of why I chose to become a teacher in the first place. It’s not that teaching is bad – I love it. It’s just inherently time consuming. Weekends seem a good time to write, but that’s when the grown-up world commands my attention. There’s laundry to do, groceries to shop, people to meet, things to repair, and oh! TRUE BLOOD.

Needless to say I have lost the path. There have been times when I have set aside an evening each week to diligently devote to writing, but now is not one of those times. Now is the meantime. Soon I will return to the craft with a vengeance; I only need the freedom. Until then, however, all I can clearly do is try to  look through the opalescent glass of absinthe before me and wait for the tide. At least Eric Northman is sinister again.


About waronliteracy

Storyteller, teacher, author of "Perfect Solution" and "Dire Requisite," I stand alone in the aftermath of the war on literacy, looking for other survivors ... we are out there ... somewhere.
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1 Response to A Note Left to the Absinthe-minded …

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