I think part of my funky feeling is the holidays: I used to be big on the family-meal-with-everybody-invited thing, just to learn that for the last 5 years our holidays were a lie. I just do not feel like doing the thing again... What, more lies?

Can I go to sleep and wake up in Jan 2, please?

I am even starting to get neurotic about my H: where is he, what is he doing, where is his ring, what does he do, is he lying to me? The whole cheeseless tunnel thing. I should know better.

I am taking time for myself. I watch DVDs and I've re-read the whole library of science fiction and fantasy (all Tolkien, all Harry Potter, the Majipoor series by R. Silverberg, the whole Narnia thing and I just finished the latest Tamora Pierce). My favorite authors do not seem to be able to write fast enough for me.

Even old, tried and trusty Georgette Heyer...

Two weeks: I can do two weeks!

"You don't throw a whole life away just 'cause it's banged up a little" Tom Smith in "Seabiscuit"