In my long time of funemployment, I had a lot of time to write, but I also made the most of my time by being a dedicated housefrau: I didn't do *all* the laundry, dishes, vacuuming, yard maintenance, etc and so forth, but I did a lot of it. It was only fair. It was my contribution to the effort.
I've slacked off a bit on some of that, although this morning I've done a lot of domestic stuff, like start some laundry, tend to the dogs/dog yard items (ahem), wash the dishes, and generally straightening out the house. I've got to do some of the other things to but I'm probably going to push those into the next days.
And of course, the job is taking up time. I've been using the T to get to and from work more and more. I kind of like it, but it does require a time commitment in itself. I don't like being late so I make myself get there early.
The job itself is beyond great. I like my co-workers a lot. My time spent at work is productive, stimulating, and not incidentally, revenue-positive.
Anyway. Time to write has been harder to come by.
Other than the glorious California summer of 2000, this has been my most pleasant summer. It's typically humid here, but the temperatures have generally stayed below 90. I'll take it.
I think you'll hear more from me as things settle down and transitions into fall. By then the routine should be set. It's hard to believe that 10 months ago we were about to embark upon this adventure... it's been a damned eventful stretch.
Sometimes it still doesn't seem real to me. Something happens and it's driven home: A seagull caws, reminding me that we live on the ocean. The skyline still amazes me. The hardest part is to still not feel fully a part of it. How long does assimilation take?