It is three weeks post-CAC, and I’ve finally found myself sufficiently decompressed and unwound from the five-ish months of constant urgency and nagging feelings that there’s something much more pressing that consistently requires my attention.  It is quite refreshing to start with a squeaky-clean agenda. 

I’ve found it much more difficult to get back into the swing of writing for the book than I had originally imagined, finding myself in a never-ending struggle in deciding if I should work my more recent attitude alterations into the piece, or stay the course with the (revised-revised-revised) original plan.  Perhaps I am trying too hard to parallel my own life in the project. Perhaps I’m simply procrastinating. 

So there’s this new movie coming out, “The Ugly Truth”, which looks absolutely horrendous.  From what I can gather, it deals with a slightly similar subject matter as No Messages, but in a far more obnoxious way.  I’m beside myself to learn the main character’s name is Abby and am unsure of whether or not I should entertain the notion of changing Ms. Harris’ name altogether.  Feeling slightly deflated over that, in a 7-year-old kind of way.  

Reuniting with the original Beamer Boy in less than two weeks.  I hadn’t realized how much I’d actually missed the little bugger in the six years we lost touch, but there’s so much excitement around this trip, around getting to see my old friend again.  So much to catch up on…and so much newness to create.  It’s all I can do to keep myself adequately entertained in the meantime.  I think I’ll write about our past adventures or try to work them into NM – that is sure to not only pass this vexatious span of time, but will certainly add to the excitement and anticipation of the trip.  I’m setting some things up to get some CAC business done while I am out there, which is oh-so-very exciting.  No rest for the wicked. 

As I drove out of my apartment complex’s parking lot this morning, I was treated to a rare sighting of the Bubble Man, a middle-aged man, probably in his early forties, who has been known to stand outside in the early morning hours, filling the area with sparkling soap bubbles which he blows with a smile.  I cannot explain his motivation in doing so, nor do I want to try.  Everyone needs some bubbles now and again, right?

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