I had a lovely time at Romance Writers’ of America’s annual conference, but going unwell and tired is not the way to do it.
Well, that’s all behind me now and I’ve been trying to find my way back to normal. I’ll not go through all the mishmash of my return – I will say I did spend the evening, night, and morning in either an airport or plane on my return home. And sick, sick, sick.
I think I’ve recuperated. My house is still in disarray; life and all its components move ahead whether or not you are ready.
Yesterday, I moved my calendar to August, and yes, I know today is August 13, 2018. I cannot believe it is here! Do you realize how close the holidays are? Count it up – it is scary! Before I’ve caught up with the important stuff on my to-do-list, it will be Halloween candy, Thanksgiving – a.k.a. turkey time, then the big one – Christmas. Do you at times consider all these traditions as THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY? Just a thought, don’t torture yourself going through past memories…
Ah, back to the story at hand and my recovery. You know, you’ve had those. I am not alone in this.
Thankfully, hubby has suffered through my illness, my crankiness, and has learned some new techniques for avoiding me. One might think after all these years he’d have discovered them. I guess even a renaissance man has some flaws. ♥
For the last few days, I’ve put forth a serious search for my mojo. Since it isn’t a tangible object, locating it has been a tricky thing. I like to think of it as a Trickster – the Native American kind – a foxy-coyote character.
I do believe I’ve seen it peeking around stacks of paper, hiding under my desk, even in my trash can.
I must be getting closer.
Determination…ah, my fortitude is grabbing hold.