But it's not just books that have flattened me this month. It's been one of those periods in life where everything seems to happen at once. In fact, today a friend asked about plans for November. I laughed. Right now plans for anything that extend past a week or two seem out of the question. I'm almost scared to suggest a plan in case it might tempt the fates to make a mockery of it all.
|Banks of Snow|
|Rourke before the incident.|
And that's how plans have been going the last little while. So I stopped, planning that is. But when I say I'm not planning - now I'm not saying writing goals - they're different. Those are hanging on my wall as I speak. Of course the fates have giggled their way through these attempts too and before the end of the weekend I'm on a mission to tweak one or two of them. But things aren't looking so bad on that front. Nope, it's the rest of my life that's running right now rather like an errant tank that no one's sure which direction it's going to turn next. But that's January. I'm seeing February around the corner and that will be a whole other puppy.
In the meantime TGIF - it's Friday - there's a glass of wine with my name on it and, what some call, some really bad television waiting on the PVR. What more can one ask? I'll contemplate the rest next week, or better yet, next month.