The Writing About Writing staff hopes your 2015 is filled with love and grace and that hard times don't sink their claws in too deep or last too long. And for those of you who have looked forward with glee to showing 2014 the door, only a few hours remain.
Me? I've loved every hellacious maddening second of 2014, and even though I am desperately looking forward to having the free time with which to blow my nose from time to time and getting back to a writing routine in which I can do fiction and keep up with Writing About Writing my little entropic tornado of distraction has been the best, most wonderful force of wanton devastation I have ever experienced.
Still a few hours a day to really sit down and write (rather than slamming in a few minutes during naps or when The Contrarian is watching "First Signs") might be really nice.
I'm still looking at a pile of thank you notes I need to write for the last couple of months worth of donations, the house is a disaster and I leave for the land of omelets and salsa tomorrow afternoon, and the staff insisted on having the afternoon off (and don't even talk to me about trying to get them to come in hung over tomorrow), so I will see you all on January 2nd, where if things go according to plan, I will be writing entries from the bedside of a very drugged up friend.
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