I've been quiet lately. There's so much to say that I don't want to say anything. I've done very little writing. Still recovering from Christmas (how long can I milk that excuse?). Still recovering from NaNo (quite a while, if November's still fair game). Not through dealing with life.
The funny thing is, there's not much happening in our lives right now. But it's that "not much" that's the problem. There are quite a few things up in the air. Job situations (my husband's mainly), schools for our daughter, my son's continuing health. Everything is status quo. But nothing will stay there. Come September, I expect the world to be spinning a different direction.
I guess the most immediate thing is my daughter's education. She's a very, very bright 4-year old who's taking a pre-k class at her daycare. Therein lies the problem. Her 5th birthday falls 25 days after the state cut-off for Kindergarden, so we're looking at private schools. And paying application fees and hearing a whole lot of non-promises about whether they'll accept her or not. So I'm finding backup plans, each more drastic than the next (repeating pre-k? rent an apartment in Illinois--only 15 miles away where she's old enough for public school? homeschooling? mostly kidding on that last suggestion).
The question of private schools brings up the question of money, which brings up jobs. Mainly, whether my husband will change jobs, and how that possibility will affect my own job. Too many possibilities. Too little data. Too dangerous of an area to blog about in public.
In an odd (and rambling) way, this reminds me of how I feel when starting a new novel. I have a general idea of what its about, and who the players are. But I can't plan for the ending, because the ending hinges on exactly what all the intermediate details are. And I can't plan more than one step ahead because I don't know where I'll be till I go there.
In writing, it's called being a pantser. In life, its called going with the flow. But darnit, I'm ready to know just where this thing is flowing.
Maybe then I can quit worrying about it and get back to semi-driving aliens falling in love with hot male nurses.