It is now early Tuesday, and I am up for workshop on Thursday. It just occurred to me that I was going to go through it again. So soon, somehow. I am glad that this time snuck up on me- no time to get super worried and neurotic about it. I really have no idea what people are going to say about this one. It's really kind of strange, when you think about it.

This story just made me so annoyed when I wrote it. But now I kind of like it.

I'm sure after it's been workshopped to death I will detest it with a renewed vigor. At least this time I won't just want to cry afterwards. So that's a bit of a plus, a bright side, if you will.

I've been reading Flannery O'Connor this week. As a result, I am feeling just a tiny bit shaky, faced with the master. She is just simply amazing, this woman. If you haven't read her, you NEED to go buy a copy of "A Good Man is Hard to Find." That collection leaves you with your jaw hanging- she is just so good at this. I just love her.

I can't write this week, but I just love her anyway. I'll probably never write anything. (I should rephrase that. I'll never write anything good. I'll write masses of self indulgent tripe).

Anyhow, I am going to finish the hot cocoa my husband made me and go bed. (For almost seven whole hours of sleep. Woo-Hoo! That is a good chunk by my insomniac standards).

Catch y'all later.