(Note the black wristband of happiness... de rigeur for writers of the UCRPDMFA... if they want to eat... It's how the hotel staff keep track of us. That and the dead-behind-our-eyes looks this late in the week.)
It rained and rained and rained...
I heard a guy in the hotel store saying that it only rains three days a year in the desert, so... there's that. It's like I won the Palm Springs Rain Lottery.
Big time famous author Sara Levine spoke this evening...
She was super smart and cute and wonderful. And she wrote a funny book. So basically I hate her.
(Y'all know that's the sarcasms, right?)
Then we had a student reading in the bar.
This is my friend, Jenn-Anne, reading a story about poop. Not her poop, though. I think that makes it okay.
And m'friend Ashley.
Today was my day off so that I could get through the rest of the week. I had a meeting with my fiction professor, Tod, but basically the only other things I had to make were breakfast and lunch (I don't skip a meal here... I paid for 'em all, and they're generally pretty good). The rest of my day was filled with letter-writing, angsty long looks out the window at the rainy golf course, and a trip to Vons. Ain't no party like a PDawg party. What what.
I tried to take a nap, but I am finding that I have a really hard time winding down here, even when I have the time off. I did manage a paltry 50 minute snooze this afternoon, but that was only after tossing and turning for a while. I can't settle. Even though I'm enjoying myself; even though I'm happy to be here, I'm tense. Much more so than home. I think this is what I'd feel like if I did a week of teaching and never left school. A little bit disconcerting to have to be your best self 24 hours a day.
I miss my kids and E. You know what's weird about residency? (And not that I'm asking for anyone to change this... you'll see what I mean, here.) I like my big, quiet room, but when you're here, nobody touches you. Like, actual physical touching. And I'm not saying I want anyone to, but being at residency makes me realize just how much real-life hugging and squeezing I do of E and my kids. And even my cats and the derfy dog. At home I know I can curl up next to a lot of warm bodies if I'm feeling like I had a long day. Human, canine, and feline. I'm feeling the space around me in a weird way. I'm excited for human touch when I get home and Saturday. For kid snuggles. And for cat warmth.
But if something good came out of me being gone (in terms of home life, not in terms of writing life, which is being impacted on a minute to minute basis here), it is that E and I had one of the best talks tonight we've had in probably years. One of those late night, really important chats it feels like we used to have when he was away in his dorm at Cal Poly or when we lived in our first little apartment and we had to snuggle together to stay warm. I'm grateful for everything I'm going back to when I leave here. As good as this is, it's even better because of the support I have for me at home.