Like an aging mirror
It’s been long enough that I can’t remember my childhood holiday breaks, to compare them to the ones flashing by now. Checking my calendar, I feel a little betrayed by the me of last month and my then work-focused mindset. The way the days land, this will be the first time ever either being in school or working in education that I won’t be off for two whole weeks. I don’t need a keen memory for that. Despite the betrayal, the same me from last month also committed to working on book 8, and taking a big chunk out of the work needing doing. And despite the betrayal, I will be honoring that. Around that same ambitious time, I opened my amazon dashboard, the cover for book 7 hovering in a different window, ready to put out another book. When I tracked the breadcrumbs, I was surprised to find that I hadn’t even finished with book 6. The frustrating interface that has haunted me these past few years was staring me in the face, taunting me with how the image I had submitted was micron...