A Place To Draw Blood Laughing

Not a sexy post, more of an administrative note.

I wrote recently on Twitter that I had taken on the dimensions and voice of a pocket-sized version of myself. To put this rather odd note in context, that is exactly what happens when I am under very tight deadlines. I go through periods of intense dedication followed by periods of insistent regression. I always manage to balance these contradicting sides out so that everything gets done on time, but the intervening emotional narrative is a bit like a rollercoaster jumped its tracks and gone skydiving.

My point in mentioning this is that I’m currently dropping rubber balls in favor of glass ones. (If you’ve never heard that analogy: If life is like a juggling act with many different balls in the air simultaneously, it’s important to know which balls are made of rubber and will bounce if you need to drop them, and which are made of glass and will simply shatter.)

So if you’ve sent me an email, my apologies. If you’ve recently messaged me on Fetlife, no, I haven’t fallen from the earth. If you’ve come knocking on my door and heard only a faint scratching, that is the sound of me creating a small nesting place of library books.

I re-emerge a week from today. I look forward to making a contact with the world that doesn’t involve the exchange of money for toast, carrot juice, or brownies. In the meantime, at least the nest is warm.

Although yes, I do intend to stick to my original 50 posts/50 days goal. I can use the breathing room.