Krissie: I’m Still Here

Photo on 4-15-14 at 11.27 AM My condolences on the Ides of April, aka the National Day of IRS Mourning. Grrr. I really don’t like the IRS.

But I digress. I’m still caught up in the daily blog over at www.anne-stuart.com/drama-queen/. I’m down at Crusie’s and so glad to be here. Yesterday was a glorious day, but today we’ve got heavy rain, and all I want to do is sleep. I spend a lot of time sleeping here — it’s so nice to be able to nap without judging myself. (Richie doesn’t judge me, I do). I’ve been doing a lot of make-up work — writing a new epilogue (listen to Jenny scream) for the reissue of my first book, BARRETT’S HILL, doing copy edits, page proofs, etc. We haven’t watched much tv — some Leverage and some Person of Interest. We’ve kept eating out and shopping to pretty good minimum, and we’ve talked about craft, about Brene Brown, about our perfect life. Jenny’s living her perfect life, only a little messier.

I’m looking for mine. I’ve had long periods where I’ve been just who I want to be, only fatter. But it’s time for a metamorphosis, particularly since Richie had to listen to Tim vent about his life last night, and I spent a full one hour and 20 minutes on the phone with Kaim while she wept. But I held firm. We told her two more semesters at college and it’s too bad if she isn’t able to graduate. She’s been there 7 years! Plus three years elsewhere. She 29 years old, time to put on her big girl panties. No, she can’t have elective surgery right now, even if she has coverage. She has to take care of business and see what she can do to fix the mess she’s gotten herself in. When she finally got off the phone I wanted to slam my iPhone through Jenny’s plasma tv. Instead of cried, because i want to rescue her, I want to fix things for her, but I can’t do it. I shouldn’t do it any more, but I truly can’t.

But I digress. Not going to think about the kids. Going to focus on Richie and me and a new life, somewhere peaceful, somewhere I can be happy. With mountains and water and a buffer of privacy without being isolated. We’ll find that place, sooner or later.

So today we’re socked in by rain. Whereas Richie, who has even warmer weather than we did yesterday (upper seventies) will have lows around 18 degrees and the rain will turn into six to twelve inches of snow. And I took off my snow tires.

So I’m staying down for an extra day in hopes that spring will reappear in the frozen climes of Vermont. In the meantime, I’m with my sister, and I’m going to take another nap.

Oh, and Amazon is doing a fabulous things right now.

Today we’re celebrating the evolution of the genre, and congratulating bestselling author Anne Stuart on 40 years of dedication to love in literature. Check out our exclusive interview and her two latest romance reads: Shadow Lover and Never Trust a Pirate.

To celebrate Anne’s 40th anniversary, we’re giving a Kindle Paperwhite! Just head over to our Facebook page and tell us what was the first romance book and/or author that got you hooked on the genre in the comments section. Contest ends this Friday, April 18 at 11:59pm PST.

L’sTiF: Ommmmm….

Here’s a thing you may not know about me if you’ve never met me before, or read anything I’ve written, or indeed heard of me in passing.

I’m a big ball of stress.

It’s not an attractive quality, and I own that. I worry, I fret, I take every negative thing inward and wrap myself around it, obsessing over how I can make it better, or how I could have prevented it in the first place. A lot of my energy goes toward prevention; looking at every possible situation, all the ways in which it can go wrong, and how I can prevent it. When I was 11, I was worried about my father’s health. Looking back, I’m not sure why, but I remember making him buy tunafish, thinking that would save him. He died suddenly of a heart attack three weeks after my 12th birthday. Somehow, instead of sending home the healthy and realistic message that I do not, in fact, control the universe, it made me more determined than ever to see the bad things coming and head them off at the pass.

Kind of like Gandalf.

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