Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Not Business as Usual

Looks like life is throwing me another curve. Probably, in a little more than a month, I will have 25% of my job. That's all the money they're allotting for overhead in the Division, and writing and editing are overhead. I know it's not personal — I do my job really well, and everyone seems to like me — and need me. They just don't want to pay for it!

We have already downsized at home, closed the studio. But now the Healthcare discussion becomes personal. John is self-employed. How will we pay for health insurance? COBRA is expensive!

I can't really wrap my head around this yet. I'm still hoping for miracles. If you've got any great ideas, let me know.
Probably will not have 25% of a job, whatever that is. Probably will have all (less likely) or none (more likely). No one really believes this, let alone me. Everyone continues to give me work. I continue to do it. We talk future -- later and so forth. Magic? or denial.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

C'est la Vie

My claim to fame denied again — and that's all that I will say about that. It's okay, although the visions of glory were entertaining, on occasion. Life goes on.

But apologies for not posting more frequently. It was hard for me to write around the elephant in my brain/room.

Not much of a summer here, but that's the way it is too. In the City, the sun comes out briefly, and just when you think you could seriously get used to it, it's gone.

Work goes on. I'm lucky to have a job, everyone says. And I'm making tremendous progress in my French, which I study during the commute. Paris, here I come (springtime in, depending on work and AWP, if I go).

Here's some news: the poetry group 13 Ways will be reading at the Madrone Lounge in San Francisco on September 20. More info as the date nears.

Wednesday, August 12, is the Perseid meteor shower. It's not going to be too spectacular this year, due to moonlight, but we're trying to find a fog-minimal, city-light-free spot to view it. Years ago, when the boy was small, we would drive from Camp Mather and throw the old Army blankets down on the still-warm concrete of the Hetch Hetchy dam and watch the show.