I feel proud and very rushed. Like I wish I had a drawn out perspective on the foolish accomplishment of all this. But the truth is, I am very bad at viewing my own accomplishments with any sort of objectivity. Most humans are. I feel no relief yet (as of writing this).
I do feel excited to see people's costumes and to be getting back another hour or so of each of my days. I am excited to be back in a city where my heart feels so wet and welcome.
I know a lot of people are going into nanowrimo tomorrow. And I sort of wish I could be joining y'all and writing up a book about a werewhale who lives in the San Juans, but I need to get on with other things. My schcool work has been woefully neglected lately and I am itching to spend more time on it.
I realize I talk a lot about fear in this arena. And I confess I use this blog sometimes as a method o categorizing my fears. But right now I am having fears about stuff I can't yet share publicly.
I also realize I use blogging as a way to probe and affirm my own uncertainty. I know at the very least that it makes me better at blogging every time.
And I want to say something pithy, something inspirational, that wraps up all the work I have done in the last thirty days, but the truth it that shit don't come when it's supposed to. So stay tuned for a post in the future, that tell you all more about what it's like to blog for 30 days straight. My words will be seeing you soon!
It's been a blast. Thank you.