My father returns from Russia today. He’s been gone since June 20th. I hope things improve, but I’m not sure how that will happen. Apparently, he’s been receiving more messages about work here in LA, so if all goes well, we’ll be working on a production within the next three or four months. My tutoring hours have been steadily dwindling, partly because the students are lazy and don’t show up. I’ll get new students next week, and I’m also doing more work with an individual student on his application essays.

Still working on that essay for the Narrative submission. The going is tough.

What became an obsession is now over

I’m done with that path. Done with thinking of what could have been and what should have been. I’m moving on. It’s funny how that works. One day you’re thinking that you can never imagine a day without thinking of someone, and then you’re over it. The subconscious mind is a powerful thing. It grabs onto thoughts and holds them tirelessly until the waking mind can no longer contemplate anything other than the affliction.

So I was dreaming and now I am well enough awake to consider the scars and memories as signifiers of something that is over and done with. There are more important things to think about now, like how I am supposed to be a writer. I’ve missed deadlines again. I feel like the only deadline I have that is truly important is the amount of time I have left to live. That’s the deadline that really matters. How much work can I produce in this time? Certainly, it is not shaping up very well.

I suppose that’s why smaller, more manageable deadlines are more important. So here’s one: the Narrative Magazine 30 Below contest. There’s 26 days left. I need to write something in the region of 15,000 words. I started yesterday. I have until the 23rd to write a draft, and 6 days after that to revise and submit.

I will do this.