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.

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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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One Response to A Note Left to the Absinthe-minded …

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