Everybody asks how it’s going, now that I’m moving on.

The honest answer, really, varies widely. But generally, and in the interest of brevity, the answer is: fine. It’s not a very descriptive response, but it’s what I’ve got. Fine: trying to get on with it. Sometimes succeeding, sometimes not, but I’ll lean back, put on my beret and squint through my Gauloise to say, “that is life, mon ami, no?”

The business is shut, the phones turned off and the unsold inventory in storage. Alison’s winding down from High School/winding up for college and enjoying her autonomy as she earned her driver’s license last week and is now tooling all over town on her own.

So what’s supposed to be filling these voids is writing, and that’s been problematic. I’m having a hard time reconnecting with my projects-in-process, but I have joining a writing group on livejournal, which Charlie finds a little maddening~ I should be really writing, not doing a series of short essays, etc~ but that’s okay. Cathartic, even. It’s making me let go of my writing and let others read it, something I’m notoriously bad at.

So we’ve compromised. I’m going to stay in the group, and he’s going to keep pushing me to get back down to business.

Oh. Right. That’s not much of a compromise. Thanks for pointing that out. I’m also supposed to crosspost the writing group stuff on the blog, because if my reason for joining it is to let people read it, then do it. One of those pieces will follow this post.

So. Let’s take stock.
Let go of the business.
My daughter.
The stress.
My daughter.
Control of my writing.
Did I mention my daughter?
Control of pretty much everything, really.

Does that about cover it? Yes?

I have been assured that all this letting go would bring a feeling of release and happiness. I’m sure it’ll be coming along at any moment. I haven’t seen signs of it yet, but it must be out there- everybody says so.

In the meantime, I’m fine. Really. Hope you’re not sorry for asking.

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