Well, I’m trying to upload a photo and it’s not working, so screw it. Got up and worked on taxes for three hours and am now in a foul mood, so I’ll think about something pleasant. Like the hero of the utterly ridiculous Sleepy Hollow. Doesn’t he ever change his clothes? Doesn’t matter — when he stands in a graveyard with the wind blowing through his hair (which has to be a wig since it was short at ComicCon) I’d follow him anywhere. Perfect avatar for my current hero. The show is ridiculous but pretty funny if you can wade through it. And, oh, my, the hero.
The avatar for my heroine, and always has been, is the character Maxie on General Hospital. I don’t know why, but when I pictured Sophie, pretty, selfish, wounded Maxie was the one I envisioned. You know, Jenny usually knows who her avatars are, and she makes the most astonishing collages. For me, I sometimes start with someone, sometimes not. And of course, they soon become their own characters.
I’m loving The Blacklist, of course, not won over by S.H.I.E.L.D. yet, and thrilled by my old friends, like Person of Interest and NCIS (damn you, Ziva!) and the Mentalist. Too much good stuff nowadays, and I’ve got taxes to get done. Aaargh!
I’m wondering if Barbara and Toni are locked out of Refab. With the constant troubles they may have gotten lost in the shuffle, but we’ll see what we can do to get them back. Crusie’s overwhelmed, and I moan too much. Trying not to, but life certainly can be a challenge. We need Barbara’s good advice on moving our butts, and Toni’s rehab inspiration.
I keep looking for the Meaning of Life. I don’t know if life has any meaning — I wrote a series of books where God gave freewill and then took a powder, leaving someone bad in charge. I think that tends to be my general belief — so many wretched things happen that a loving god would interfere. Therefore he’s sunning himself on some beach on the Caribbean with no cell service while an evil archangel is in charge, dispensing plagues and war.
NOT that we should talk about theology or politics or we’ll all start fighting. (Krissie immediately zips her lips about congress but you know what I think).
I wish everything didn’t feel so out of control. I think I need to get someone in to help me on the house — someone who can stand for a long time and carry things, etc. No one can do the taxes but me, no one can write the books but me, but damn it, I can get help with the other stuff, can’t I?
OK, that’s my goal. To call the woman who was going to help me work on this place and see what I can do about it. That, and maybe drag my husband out to work on the storage areas.
But first, I gotta write. Because if I write, the rest of the world is manageable.
But man, do I hate taxes.