So, I'm on the move again. On the road again... or am I? Who knows, at this point. I'm writing this from a different location than my last, I dunno, 100 writings, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm anywhere different. Of course, I could be. Hell, I should be. Regardless, where I am while you read this is likely not where I was when I wrote this. Or writing this. Or something like that. Ah, screw it... I'll worry about tenses another time.
Anyway, for those who care, I'm out and about in the world. Which, for those who may not know, is how I like it. I wander while I wonder and I wonder while I wander (actually, I usually wonder why I'm not wandering, when it is that I'm not wandering).
My ultimate destination is California, the all-too-elusive place that I've been trying to get to for the past, say, 21 years. Why it's elusive, I'll never really know... I mean, it's land. It doesn't really move, right? Except during the occasional earthquake (okay, okay... it's California... the frequent earthquake).
Though I've enjoyed my time writing over the past year or so, it's time for me to reenter the workforce. Honestly, I can't wait. Sitting still, even if it's due to writing, gets to me. I like motion. Movement is good. Some movements are better than others, but I'll leave it to your imaginations to determine what the Hell I mean by that.
So I'm on my way. Finally. I was supposed to be on my way last October, but two of my dogs decided to run away and completely destroy my entire schedule. And then, I must admit, I got a little complacent. I probably need to stop doing that, but it's oh, so easy. Need someone to whip me into action. Preferably young, brunette, rich, smart, and willing to settle on someone beneath her stature.
I should wrap this up. I need to decide if I'm taking I-40 or I-20 to I-10. Decisions, decisions.
*This also means no creative writing for a while... expect nothing but superficial rants and raves until I get settled again.
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