New pretties at work, chiefly the new books page, and the new Printers Row blog. Migrating it all over was a beast, to be sure, and a beast that is yet to be totally tamed. But, brick by brick, I’m getting it all shipshape.
Rosh HaShanah was lovely, though I felt like I slid into the homeplate of the new year rather than carefully prepared in years past. Whatever, I moved, so I was prepared for that.
Moving, right. Yes. I moved. I moved to be closer to work. While some might argue that such a maneuver upsets the life-work balance everyone is so fond of discussing, I would say it has had the opposite effect on me. I’m close enough that I can walk over, deal with my dry cleaning, make a bit of something for lunch, give Chairman Meow a bit of attention, unload the dishwasher and walk back, so as not to come home to a pile of unaddressed dry cleaning, a full dishwasher, a cranky cat and a stiff neck for not having taken a time out. The view ain’t bad either. There is something terribly good about being able to see water first thing in the morning.
Writing has been pouring outta me lately, and my sleep has been weird (if you longtime readers will recall, my sleep routines and writing output have always seemed to influence one another, though not always in predictable or understandable ways), which means I should hit the hay.