I’m sure everyone is wondering why I haven’t posted, because I know that’s what all of my legions of readers do in their spare time. The truth is that I have been angsty, and thoughtful, and mixed-up and crazy-busy.
My taxes were a small disaster. One of my W-2 forms was mailed to the wrong address and then reissued (on April 14, finally) under the wrong name. (Lindsay Logan: I have your W-2 from AmeriCorps.) After much last-minute scrambling, I got my taxes mailed in. And they came right back to me the next day, marked “insufficient postage.”
I went to Denver last weekend for an arts educators’ conference. It was cool to be around so many creative types all at once. Made me feel quite inferior for not even being able to draw, tho. (I went because the nonprofit i work for partners with an art museum, and I was co-presenting a seminar on a family arts literacy program we run.) I saw the airport, the hotel, and a tumbleweed.
Now we’re holding a huge fundraiser used book sale at work, and I am the publicity chick. Which means. I don’t know what it means. I have never done publicity for anything before. I made 8,000 promotional bookmarks today when I should have only made 1,000 (or so I learn now, after I already spent $250 on them.) This is why I should never be entrusted to use my judgement.
And of course, the question of the future, all aspects of it, is as open as ever. I am sinking, sinking, sinking into angst about a swirl of unrelated sectors of life. This happens to everyone. It will pass. Deep breath.