today i am in a coffee shop, working on a piece to submit to an anthology about growing up female and evangelical. i've opened up some old files from my thesis and am cobbling something together. it's odd to revisit these works that had consumed my life a year ago. i haven't looked at them since i turned them in to be graded. no post traumatic stress attacks yet. though some of what i have written still makes me chuckle, so that's a good sign. it feels good to flex these muscles in my brain again and remember that i love writing. the past months have been a much needed break from the insanity of last year, and i think i feel ready to pick up the pencil again, or peck away at the keyboard, as it were.
it helps to do this, rather than waiting and waiting for a phone call. i am doing the things that are in my control, rather than agonizing over things that are out of my hands.
i went to a job fair yesterday for a nonprofit that manages several low income housing properties. unfortunately i had a splitting headache but i dragged myself there anyway. after perusuing the available job descriptions and failing to be piqued by any of them, i left. no sense going through an interview when i felt less than stellar physically. i know they exist now and i can check their openings online. headaches suck.
i unloaded many old books at church today for their annual book sale. i am afraid to go to the actual sale, as i might end up with a bigger pile of books than i donated. such is my addiction. the first step is admitting the problem.
speaking of which a new novelty in my life is listening to podcasts of "this american life." in spite of the ethnocentric title, grrrrrrrrrrreat storytelling can be found here. it inspires me. perhaps one day you'll hear me reading on there, which would be too amazing for words. something to shoot for, i suppose.