So true, ita, so true.

After about two months of writing next to nothing, I seem to be getting back on track:

• Finished my essay on "Boobs," and the editor and her agent like it. There was unclear talk of whether "edits in the middle are OK," which I said OK to, but as I've not heard back, I'm forced to assume that they're relatively minor and being made on the other side. Of course, no one even knows if this book is really coming out.

• No word from Agent #1, who was in a rush to get the novel manuscript but hasn't been heard from since. (Shrugs shoulders.) Editor at Publisher #1 has the first 30 pages. Should here from him this week if he, too, doesn't disappear entirely.

• Got guidelines out to section editors for the next issue of The November 3rd Club.

• Resumed writing my column for GotPoetry.com after the inadvertant hiatus.

It feels like I should be able to rest now. Alas, it doesn't really work like that...

• New column up, after an inadvertant

Teppy! Topic?

Check it out, Victor. I'm betting on being one of the great innovators of all times by that standard, babe. All about the cravings.You should feel complimented; you bumped Dr. House, whom I find a quotable fictional human being.

Sweet burning Jeebus on a raft, do I hate cover letters.

I have a job I'm really interested in, the deadline is tomorrow, and I'm giving myself a mild panic attack trying to write the cover letter. Ack.

Anybody bored and want to read it?

Late, as always. You can almost set your watch by my late posting of the drabble topic. Which is ironic.

Challenge #100 (commemorating an event) is now closed.

Challenge #101 is disguise[s]. I know we used "masks" as a topic a little while back, but this feels different to me, as a topic. And I'm the autocrat around these here parts, anyway. So. Disguise[s]. Go to it.

Ailleann, I'm not sure how much help I'd be but I am certainly willing to try (that and, yeah, I'm bored). So, if you're still around and looking for input, I'd be happy to take a look at it. melon underscore m at-sign hotmail dot com

Edited because I just noticed this is totally irrelevant (I didnt look at the date of your post, sorry)

listless

today i took too few steps
too few steps to make myself real
to make myself realize i was alive
i was alive and could take more steps

today the sky is uniformly grey
uniformly grey from horizon to horizon
horizon to horizon outside and inside
outside and inside the sky stayed grey

today i wore too shabby clothes
too shabby clothes to echo my fear
echo my fear and my apathy
my apathy moulders in too shabby clothes

tomorrow i must rise and assume my disguise
assume my disguise as a human being
a human being functional, healthy and hale
healthy and hale will be my disguise

Liese, that's a punch in the gut. Goes well with your mask drabble.

...a trifle disguised...

It's in Heyer's novels: "disguised", in Regency London, was slang for drunk.

When you first begged for help, you were visible. Help me stop, love - this is killing me. For awhile, it worked. You were there, yourself, shining through. I could see you.

Then you left me: nearly two years, back in Surrey, London, where the work was, where your wife was. You couldn't take it and you came back to me, drinking again.

And I didn't know. This time, no help was requested, and none was offered.

I couldn't see through you, a trifle disguised.