California love.

I love to write.  In fact, writing is what I am slugging my way through a degree for. (with 3 kids in tow and a husband working his way through a challenging MBA himself)  I love to write, but I am too tired to write, right now.  And by right now, I mean for the last 3 months or so.  Inspiration: nada, whitty one-liners are in short supply, and everytime I sit down to write something fabulous I come up short.  Writing is a workout, and I am out of shape.  This blog has suffered.  Obviously.  My book, which I used to cherish and (perhaps) even coddle is in a stagnant state of editing.  Right now, I kind of hate it.  I keep making these goals for myself, finished by Christmas, finished by summer, okay then, the end of summer, etc etc.  I want it done.  I want to send it out and take a risk.  I want to get 18 million rejection letters from editors.  Okay, maybe not, but  let's face it, it's inevitable so I might as well act like I want it.  Glass half full and all that...

So, since I've turned into a writing slob and let my mind turn into mush that has trouble remembering any kind of grammer and also finishing coherent sentences I guess I better start slow.  Maybe five-ten minutes of writing a day, just to get back in the groove.  But now I really must go to bed.  We're in San Diego and the beach was heaven today.  The sunburn covering the entire backside of my body this evening... not so heavenly.  That's what I get for napping under the fabulous California sun.

Oh how I love California, always have, always will.  It's in my blood.

Peace out peeps.