If writing is how we 'right' our world, then I need to write for a solid day.

The weekend was thrilling and informative and exciting. I don't know why it always suprises me how people of such outstanding talent will come and rub elbows with the likes of myself. But there I am in a class with William Bernhardt and he's talking to us like we're family and it dawns on me, for the umpteenth time, they are like me, and at one time they were in my shoes. Wanting to and working to make it happen. They know what it's like, and they want to be the ones to give the next guy a hand. That's one of the neat things about most writers--a generous spirit.

I have so much zinging around in my head right now. Picture a speeding pinball at this point. I have writing things I want to plan and organize. I have trip arrangments to make for an ASL convention in Dallas this weekend. I have Abe's travel arrangements to Chicago to make. Twice? R keeps coming home as soon as I get a chance to sit down and then he thinks all I do is sit in the chair all day. He doesn't really think that, does he? I hope not.

I want to get May mapped out like I did April, but it's not happening. At least not today. I think it's because my oldest is home instead of at work today. It's looking like my routine starts with his at 5:10 in the morning. What am I going to do when that job is history?

I'm off to read Annie's blog. I know I'm missing some really good stuff over there because I just had time to skim it last night.....