Rabbit wisdom

The number of concert association renewals waiting for me to process them is roughly...a lot. And I will. They just need to sit there and age a bit, so that their characters fully develop. Meanwhile I will spend a little time wondering why blank days on the calendar add a special twist of flavor to my baseline anxiety level.

On that note...well, not really that note, but at least in that key and mode...I’m wondering whether it would be appropriate to change my default identity from “writer” to “slacker.” Or whether there’s a more descriptive term than slacker, because that’s not quite what I mean to connote. I don’t particularly evade work and responsibility, and I’m not--as far as I can tell--marked by apathy. I need a word that means “existing without an externally validatable identity.” (She who makes up words when none of the dictionary-approved ones suit her?)

Yes. If you have time to worry about this stuff, perhaps you have too much time. One of the tricky aspects of the aforementioned blank-calendar days. You might say “You need more to do.” I might reply “I have, as I mentioned, a stack of concert association renewals. I just don’t want to do them. They’re tiresome.” You might say “You’re tiresome.” I might reply “Yes. Thank for a defining word.”

I am struggling to continue the book. (though I will. I do feel I owe the characters that much.) But the struggly part is perfectly understandable (to me anyway,) in that I have three completed books and nothing to do with them. It’s kind of like making three delicious cakes, decorating them with Cool Whip™, and saying “Couldn’t we just look at them for a while?” So here I am thinking “Let me hurry and finish the 4th! Heaven knows 4 moldy concoctions stinking up the fridge on their way to the garbage must be better than 3.” So, that’s the thing. Purpose is a bit elusive here.

Which leaves me the determinedly healthy, if sort of labile, support-partner to a wonderful but fading person who can no longer provide the sturdy presence which kept me sane.

So Fred-fred and I went on a sanitizing walk this morning and stared down a good many bunnies. Who continued to nibble their clover, as if to say “don’t you have some concert association stuff to work on?”