this part of the year in review

Wrote this earlier. Now it's posting.

Taking a wee break from mental health treatment. That's the story going in tomorrow--of a theory--and I've been trying to rope it in all morning. It was a huge 41-inch sprawling mess yesterday and became a somewhat more organized, yet still sprawling, mess at 7 am, when I tackled it after some early morning page proofing. One of my kind and wonderful colleagues read it over and gave me some good suggestions. I went home and slept for half an hour at 10, came back, made phone calls and then took myself to a coffee shop to kill the beast. Which is what I think I've just accomplished. I'm going to let it brew for a bit and then take another peek. My absolute deadline is 3 p.m. So, really, I have years and years. Funny how my perspective on time has become completely mad. It really is years. Two hours: an untold luxury of time.

But enough brooding.

Let's go on to something really happy: Sentencing.

Actually. This is not happy at all. This is always always depressing and gives me a stomach ache. But here it is: Seaside brothers get 20 months for random beating.

We've received letters. Who said if you're not making someone angry by something you write you're probably not doing your job? I can't remember. I wish it wasn't like that. I wish people didn't do foolish, violent things.

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I finished reading some Jack London. It might be a while before I eat a hamburger and when I do, I'm going to fall upon it and shake it so that its neck will break and it won't be able to run away. Then there will be a conflict between my doggish and wolfish natures when another person asks if they can have a wee bite. Maybe I'll growl and show my fangs. Who knows.