I'm sorry for not updating. I actually have over 15 early drafts of things waiting to be written, with short notes (if I was smart and am lucky) to remind me of the happenings since late October; but, as in all things, life happens, things are put on hold, in perspective, and so once-priorities fall to the wayside and new things overtake them. It feels like just when the dust is about to settle, a new storm brews. What a year it has been, indeed.
I'd like to think that I can handle things quite well, but lately I feel like I am being slowly buried alive. Perhaps I am able to deflect one or two things; once it's past a certain threshold, however--or once I seem to be approached from all sides--that's when I begin to feel that I can no longer manage. I am desperately in need of some time off or away from everything. Now. Instead I must be patient, as always, and wait.
It's times like these that I am reminded of Dumas' lovely and telling quotation.
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