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“Welcome to Atlanta where the players play…”

This is the text I got from my husband this morning, once he got to work and found out that he had been picked up as a transfer with his job to their Atlanta facility.

We decided on a whim almost a month ago to put in for it because the situation here has been at such a stand still, and really, I’ve been complaining about this place (my hometown) for oh…since I moved back here in 2006. We also tried for Houston and Butner, and I would have been fine with either, but being honest, my heart was already in Georgia.

And, truth be told, and as my history speaks for itself, I believe in fresh starts.

On one hand it’s scary. With two special needs children, transitions and the what ifs surrounding them can be paralyzing, but on the other hand we’ll be in a place where there are many more opportunities and hopefully school districts that can better suit their needs.

I will, at least for a bit, be able to be at home writing and be there and available for my family. The chances for promotion for my husband will greatly increase. And I will still have family in the area, including two beloved older aunts who I don’t see or talk to nearly enough. And there are a couple of friends who relocated there several years ago who I get to catch up with, too and writer friends I’ve met through social media who I might actually get to hang out with in real life!

But enough with the jibber jabber. I have a house to sell and another to locate and buy!

Say It (Out) Loud

I’m currently working on a project. I’d even go so far as to say a big project in the scheme of things and where my writing career is concerned. I’ve been mum about it and I still am for various reasons, but I think my not talking much about it has kind of kept it all from feeling “real” in my mind.

For instance, I’ve been working on “my part” of it off and on for the past month or more. , and going back and forth between two things I couldn’t decided between. I’m starting to recognize all this as that old familiar foe, procrastination, and I don’t want to be responsible for throwing up my own road block where this project is concerned. And being in the position that I’m in, no one’s going to give me a hard and fast deadline here. It’s up to me, all in my hands whether this thing comes to fruition for me, so here’s the thing:

I give myself until Sunday to finish “my part.” That way I can send it on Monday which will be halfway through the month which I think would leave good time to make our target goal.

I’ve learned I can’t depend on my muse or wait for bits of inspiration to just appear, though I am listening to a lot of Joss Stone.

“But if you drive all night…tell me what use is a night when you can’t sleep anyway…”