Frelling insomnia. I blame the Australian Open (for hosing my sleep cycle) and the to-get-to list.
That said, there are some major going-to-be-fun things on that list. One of them:Upper Rubber Boot
will be publishing my first book of poetry this spring (in time for my reading with Joanne
at the Nashville Public Library on March 24). It will be available via Amazon, Barnes & Noble, GoodReads, Kobo, and some other venues, formatted for ePub, Kindle, and pdf-reading machines.
Another big thing is that I'll be turning 42 in May. Since it's a rather special number
, I'm planning to host an open house that will double as a supply drive for LP Pencil Box
I'm mentioning this now because it happens to be on my mind, and also because I suspect some of you local peeps may not want to wait until May for an excuse to splurge on office supplies (or to thin down your existing stashes of them). I can just see the too-cool-for-school kidz rolling their eyes at that last paragraph, but part of being 41 going on 72 is being at peace -- or at least some semblance of detente -- with one's dorkiness. Plus, I'm a calligrapher: having a fetish for paper is part of the territory. ;-)
There'll be more details about both the book and the birthday party once they're closer to showtime. In the meantime, I have my mug of herbal tea, a red pencil, and someone else's book to proofread. But first, a list:( 41 things I've gotten to )Subject line brought to you by a conversation during brunch yesterday, when a friend observed that extroverts often think introverts are boring when we're merely quiet. (Everyone was kidding, of course, but it still got me thinking about relative values of "quiet" and "boring.")