Helluva week — couple of the weeks, actually. It’s going to be quite a ride for a few months.
Coming back after the holidays — lots of time spent with friends and family, spent cooking for friends and family, spent sleeping too long and wandering around the house in my pajamas . . . and yet not very much time spent writing (which was a bit of a problem, really) — there was a lot to get done . . . including taking some time out to talk with my boss and acknowledge a fairly significant milestone: The anniversary (and subsequent managerial review) of working at this place.
Hasn’t even felt like six years, really. There were a couple of really long years in there, but the blame for that lies elsewhere. Six years is a long time, but not a bad one. In a perfect world, I’d be spending a lot more time wandering around the house in my pajamas, drinking tea, and writing things for people. But grinding my teeth through two years of divorce taught me that this isn’t a perfect world — although, perhaps, as close to perfect as I’m allowed.
The only real difference, really, is the pajamas. The wandering around, tea, and writing is fairly close to reality.
The writing may be better, as well. It’s certainly more profitable.
And given this disquieting news from Mr. Gaiman, I feel thankful and discouraged all at the same time to be getting paid to do anything. God knows, I’m using my major — which is more than I can say for about half of the folks I went to college with. And most of them stayed awake, in comparison to my shameful sleepwalking. More proof that God (and, presumably, the gods) are capricious — or, at least, easily bought off.
So . . . lots to get done this month, in pajamas and out of them. I thought we were starting off with a little momentum when I heard that a couple of my submissions had been accepted for the Entrance to Hell calendar. Yay for nepotism. (Although now it looks like the calendar in question may be in question. Boo.)
And, of course, there’s this news. One more guy in his pajamas does my heart good.
What’s up this month, you ask? I’d love to rattle on about it here but it’s time to post a poem, and then get pajamas off, kids to school, and the workday started.