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Tired

Despite all the bee jokes, this week has been exhausting and demoralizing. I didn't know how much so until this morning, when a series of low-grade panic attacks rolled over me - they've been with me most of the day as I've hauled everything out of the office, packed up boxes and bags of books and clothes to be given away, and worried about life in general. I missed a week of writing, though, and I no longer have the luxury of moping about because I don't live in some pretty little apartment with a perfectly-appointed office. Starting tomorrow I have to suck it up and start working on the writing, as well as reading through a huge pile of non-fiction (research for the novel version of "Wondyrechaun"). I won't be working in the office though - that's now officially my storage room, and I probably won't be able to use it again until October, when the heat and the bugs are largely gone.

Anyway, there's no real point to this post except to say that I'll be disappearing again for a while as I get caught up.

Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.


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