I’m waiting for my publisher to get comments back to me, from her initial structural-edit pass on book two. (Next pass is line-editing.) She does a great job, and I look forward … oh, who am I kidding? I look forward to her finding no problems whatsoever. But I hardly expect that.
In the meantime, I’m living life, and ignoring an essay I’m supposed to write. I had to go look at my astrology for the past couple of days, though, because what I’ve done is this:
- Break up with one of my partners.
- Pay taxes to the federal government, past the withholding, for the first time in my life (because of the dayjob).
- Pay money to get my gutters fixed.
Gutters! Who cares about gutters?! I never wanted to be a homeowner. But apparently the land, the fey folk, and my gods want me here. Or something like that.
The fey don’t cover the gutter work, though. (And what if they did? That doesn’t seem optimal. We want rain everywhere!)
Yet today and yesterday, my horoscope is all Venus transits. I’m supposed to be enjoying this. Or it’s good. The goddess is looking out for me, fixing things, dropping what doesn’t serve.
Who cares about taxes and gutters? But I didn’t want to lose the partner.