I hit a wall this week. Working on this novella (which bears no resemblance whatsoever to the blurb/outline I jotted down when I started) has come to a screeching halt for at least the next week or two.I have so much going on right now I need to deal with certain things in shifts. The novella is just one thing, and I had to walk away from it as other things that actually have deadlines creep up on me.

This is the face I make all the time now.

Moving, for one. I’ve started my apartment search and it’s taken a very different tone than last year. Last year it was all LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION, so I went with a super-tiny spot near downtown. It was enjoyable as long as the weather was good, but now that winter is in full swing  the pipes are freezing and the driveway needs shoveling. The novelty of being close to things only lasts as long as I don’t have to work to go to them.

As well, I’m eager for SPACE SPACE SPACE. Yes, I know I’ve been shouting about purging and being all minimalist, but in doing so I’ve purged myself out of the sense of home. Now I’m looking for somewhere that can accommodate actual office space, since the living room in my bijou city apartment looks like a bomb went off. AND I REQUIRE BOOKSHELVES.  There. I’ve said it. Even just one tall one complemented by a mini one in another room. For one, I keep acquiring books by contributing to them, and since that doesn’t look like it’s going to end any time soon I’m sucking it up and making room.

Looking for new digs is Hell, and I’m immersing myself in it until I sign a lease. The ratio of  fuckwit managers and leasing agents versus “I am renting an apartment and I would like to show you the apartment” is staggering. Fingers crossed this ends quickly and I’m not facing a  nervous breakdown in a month.

I’m also plotting my annual cottage vacation. My last trip was enjoyable, but it was also the post-breakup trip when I was also miffed about having all my special places tainted by a bad end. I decided this year that I was going to take my Mom. Sounds a little sad, does it not? Well, goddammit, I’m taking my Mom with me because she hasn’t had a vacation in 20+ years. On top of that, she’s going to let me do all the stuff I’ve done multiple times already through fresh eyes. Assuming I don’t pull over on the side of the road somewhere near the New Brunswick border and order her out, it should be a good time.

This might be me after 8 hours in the car with Mother.

My second anthology has leaped onto my to-do list with the closure of Oysters & Chocolate, since my stories are now offline. Saranna DeWylde is giving me a good editorial spanking in exchange for some cover porn, so it’s coming along.

Lastly, I have just a teensy bit of room left in my brain for some shorts. Luckily I anticipated going off the rails with all the other stuff so I am a month ahead of the nearest deadline.

It could be worse. I could have tried to balance school in here, but I’m taking a break from that until the fall. I’m giving myself until the beginning of spring to be completely crazy and all over the place, after which I’ll take a break before the move before resuming the crazy.