Ah, Sunday afternoon. This week has been a little bit insane. The NPM project has taken off, and now we seem to have the whole renegade craft community on our side. That's a good feeling, even considering that one of them is responsible for this:
Friday was a rush of meetings and deadlines - I almost felt fully employed again. Yikes. There was the gym, writing, meeting campaign managers over seven cups of coffee, bringing a formerly pay-rolled publicity friend into the Cait & Associates fold, reviewing others' writing, an MFA prep class, and cheap drinks at the Ice House. A busy day indeed.
Yesterday was a little more laid-back, but there was a key confrontation episode involving hoards of Avon walkers clad in pink for breast cancer. They were all walking into the city on the tiny walkway of the Manhattan Bridge while I was trying to press my way past them and make it to Brooklyn. Then the Hassidim began popping up amidst the pink (it was the Sabbath, after all, so they eschewed the subway), and I was buffeted every which way by the tall black hats and mammary glands. Add in a drove of angry indie man bikers, and, well, what an adventure.
As for today, I've already read my future. It looks okay. Actually, it looks like this:
Black magic half-full...
For all the cool kids out there, this means: reflected light, mental unrest, intuition, new projects, creativity, imagination, and entering a phase of the unknown.
Well, well, well.
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