I bit off more than I could chew this semester. Between the day job, piano lessons, schoolwork, library gig, and whatever other shenanigans I managed to find myself in, I couldn't find enough hours in the day to succeed at all of it.
My muse moved to New York and for me was reduced to a series of pixels and sound waves, which I found pretty devastating. At first, I thought the separation would give me the opportunity to rediscover my individual identity and interests - as one does after a breakup, but without the accompanying self-doubts and -loathing. That lasted for all of a week. I read a couple of books, went to restaurants by myself, did more homework than usual. I realized that my favorite hobby, the thing I looked forward to every week, was having a man to cook for, one with good taste at that. It might be terrible to admit that in this post-feminist era, but I'm an old-fashioned girl.
But we're all glad to know that Chet is doing well seeking his fortune. Perhaps he will be good enough to explain that filthy lucre in his hands. I guess playing the accordion in the subway station turned out to be a good gig after all.
The good news in the continuing saga of Kimberly is that I'm on the road to recovery. I have a lot to look forward to. This week I graduate from my Master's program and officially become an old-maid librarian. (If you know anyone who wants to make me an employed old-maid librarian, give me their contact info.) I'll have so much more free time now that I won't be spending my weeknights and weekends doing homework or avoiding it. I have a wedding cake to make, my first order: sour cream white cake, raspberry filling, and vanilla frosting. There is Festivus on December 23. Please RSVP for the Festivus celebrations at my house if you want to be included. I'll be getting the pole out of the crawlspace soon.