As much as I've made a career of resenting any weather that doesn't allow for shorts and T-shirt, I probably should consider settling down up here--that is if I really want to get anything done in the writing arena. There's something to be said for being confined to quarters by the climate. (I had no idea my skin could look pasty; I'm not sure I like that part of it.)

I'm working on an addiciton piece for OnSpec (last minute, I know--a habit cultivated during the university days), and another for Oceans of the Mind. Just fished out 5 pieces from the archives, dusted them off and unleashed them on five unsuspecting publishers (heh heh heh). Five... That's four more than I ever put out there (the archives are pretty big and neglected). Phone calls and mailing--I avoid these things as much as humanly possible, and now that I'm married, I have a marvelous husband who can intercept phone messages and make the "important calls" to utilities companies and landlords. But the mail thing, I've had to face myself. An envelope? No two envelopes and one has to be... SASE. And stamps! Some Canadian some US... and you have to go to a special place for them... and then there's locating a mailbox. pant pant... deep breath, remember your yoga-place...

I'll get over it.

It's still raining, I'm still at the monitor. Enough wasting time on journals...