beginning, I write that I’m lacking a writing topic. Trust me, I seem to be saying, I am going somewhere in regurgitating all these unusual earthquake stories. I wake up a few days after this event and finally have an idea as to what I want to write about, that is that what I have just written is my story.
I very badly wanted to keep working on this essay today but come midday had to do other things. I got Hrimmi out for a walk and then went to strength training class. I thought I might follow the easier of my two strength training programs, but I ended up doing the more difficult one. I got going and I felt pretty good – I am now able to jump up on an 18 inch high table. I previously jumped up on a 12 inch table.
I returned home, took Tinni for a walk and then cleaned the pen. It’s light out a lot later now – I am now over the hump. And it’s only going to continue to get lighter.
Tomorrow we have our wilderness first responder class. It’s all day, every other Saturday. I’ve been so busy working on the proposals and on this essay that I have not studied as much as I should. I also have not yet packed my gear. We have an assignment due on Sunday, I’ll be finishing it up so I won’t get back to work on Son of Earthquake until Monday. If I had my druthers I’d stay home tomorrow and resume writing. But I also have to go to the library and whoever is around some questions because I write about the library being a source of stories. The deadline for the Anchorage Daily News Contest (the first place I am submitting this) is Tuesday late afternoon. I may just work on this some more this evening because I do have this ending figured out and now want to see it through.
It’s so strange, to be a disciplined person in some ways but not in others. I guess I fear that if I’m not disciplined that I will go to hell in the handbasket that has no bottom.
Next: 40. 2/9/19 Name Change