I'm not teaching this summer, which is such a relief. I have 12 weeks in front of me with -- shit, what? Oh, okay. It's down to nine weeks now. What the absolute fuck, where did my three weeks go?
I drove to New Orleans for my father's memorial and then I drove home again and then my dog died, and then today I didn't do a gotdamn thing but drink tea and read SF novels.
Right, okay. What will I did with my almost nine weeks that remain?
I'm going to read more SF novels (big surprise) and write reviews for some of them, and I will also work on what might be (knock wood, touch silver, spit) a new novel. Or maybe just a novella. WE WILL SEE.
I will also continue exercising. And I'll visit my kid and the rest of my family up the mountain once a week or so, which is easier now that we have the Subaru. Oh, and I promised Dr. Skull a trip to visit Glen Campbell's grave. (Why? I do not know.)
Speaking of Dr. Skull, Dr. Skull wants to get a new dog. I am against that for the time being, though a pet search program keeps throwing up cute puppies for my perusal. I'm just not ready.
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| A black mouth cur that Petfinder says I should get |
2 comments:
One of my colleagues was in the situation where she got a puppy too soon after losing her beloved dog. She said she would never do it that way again because she really resented its puppyhood instead of appreciating it. So I agree with waiting! (Sample n=1.)
I'm really just not ready. It's so hard when they die.
But if I was going to get a dog, a black-mouth cur is the sort I would like. :D
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