I have a terrible cold AGAIN, and I am doing what I can to get better before bday and holidays. *sniffle* I really thought I would get through the end of 2004 without another illness. What do I know. This one was my aunt's fault I think.

I have to get to work and give a review and then come back home and keep editing this freelance book. My landlord said he'd help lower the storm windows tonight, which is good. It should help the temp in here. Of course that meant clearing things away from the windows so the apt. looks like a train wreck.

I've been writing when I can, or thinking about writing, which is almost as good. I did hear from that lit magazine, and they had published my story in the spring. I like having their credit on the list, so I'm happy. Of course, I can't update web sites so my Publications page will have to stay out of date until I don't know when.

My pages are horribly shabby, and I lost all the graphics, html files, etc. that are not already loaded up there, so I feel like just starting over altogether. But of course I don't have the time to do that. I might just kill most pages once I get a new computer. I can't leave them as they are, that I know. *sigh*

We have postponed the poets' group meetings for months. I'm worried that we may never get back on track. Everyone promises that Jan. will be the month but we will see. I need something to keep me going.

Time to get moving and go cough on everyone at the office. ugh.

So. This autumn has been quite the season.

Denial: I pushed the power button a million times. Nothing? Well, a simple swap of the power supply and everything will be fine.
Anger: *$%&$ technicians who tried to rebuild my whole computer before I finally comandeered it back worse off than it was before, with some nasty snapping and raising of the voice.
Bargaining: If only that ONE drive can be accessed then I promise I will always back up all my data from this point on!
Depression: Lots of moping while I tried to figure out how I can ever get back the stuff stuck in that metal box without handing over my first born.
Acceptance: I will most likely never get those poems, stories, utilities back. I accept this. In a way, it is refreshing to be "forced" to start over, to have lost the clutter, to live for months without regular email and access to the Internet. I breathe.

I've learned many lessons, the most important of which is to back up everything more regularly than I was backing up before. *sigh* I do have copies of many poems and stories, so I am not completely screwed.

I borrowed an old system from my office a month ago and finally decided to start accessing the Internet again last night. It is good to be back, but something is different. I have a new view now, having distilled the things for which I really need the computer from this loss.

In the meantime R and I took a weeklong, self-made writers' retreat. We stayed in a renovated barn on an upstate NY farm and spent our time scratching out words. I came away with two finished poems, four draft poems, two draft flash fiction pieces, and lots of renewed confidence in the process and my part in it. I now try to write every day, something I was not doing at all for most of 2004. I've decided that next year I'll take vacation time each month to devote to my writing so that I can continue this commitment. I just have to do this for myself.

I've written a letter to a magazine that said 2 years ago that my story would be published. It may have been and they couldn't get in touch with me, so we'll see. If it was never printed I'll send it out to other places now. I've also kept my promise to stay away from readings until I have new stuff. (I'll need more than two new poems but I'm on my way.)

Still keeping with the freelance work but there have been fewer jobs these last few months. I plan on throwing myself back into the business in the spring, at which time I hope to have had a new supercomputer for at least 2 months. Now if I could only figure out what to buy and where to get it ....