March Marches On

Tonight I went to take out the snail mail and did something decidedly un-diet-diva-like; I got an ice cream sundae at the shop near the mailbox.

Circumstances can be larger than an individual's ability to work around them, so I shouldn't be embarassed to tell my client that taxes, debt management and spring cleaning will take me out of the loop until Wednesday; there are no deadlines anyway. Still, I'm looking forward to the day when I can run on the flat and level and get tons of his work done. No Renaissance parties, no spring cleaning, no forms to fill out, no people to please -- just freelance writing and my weekly teaching gig (which I started last week, by the way.)

Soon my father will be here to clean the deluvium and more out of the basement, while I scrub the ground-floor floors (no deluvium there, just a winter's worth of residual grime -- not too bad because of the periodic superficial cleanings we've been giving it.)

I wish I had a picture, but I don't even have a camera.

Because of unanticipated trouble with the mail I have a severe cash-flow crisis. If anyone is reading this who feels like sending me a few bucks, please email me and I will be gob-smacked amazed that you exist. And if you're out there, thanks for reading and enjoying my blog.