Under the Boardwalk


This is different. Everything is… stronger, more connected, less stressful. Last night there was a flash-point, and instead of the whole thing devolving into chaos, there was order. Wisdom came from the most unexpected of sources and rebellion was, frankly refreshing this morning. Also, yesterday evening I was confident enough to do something that a year ago would have filled me with dread. It is all… well, hopeful.

I’ve also worked out why the weight loss is not as fast as it could be, or indeed should be. RIP any sweeteners in my tea until Christmas.

It’s doable.

Today, once I’ve placed some new weights on the chest press bar and held myself for ten seconds longer in a plank than yesterday, is the final sweep up of backlog so the next poetry deadline can be met with over a week to spare. If there needed to be a true indicator of progress, then that’s it. I’ve got a list of editing/deadline stuff to poke, NaNoWriMo beginning in fifteen days, and a fairly stress-free cruise to Christmas.

There are a number of potential issues on the horizon. We’ll deal with it if/when it happens.

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