Supposed To

I am really supposed to be working a final paper for class. Really.

I am really supposed to be reading Darkest Road so I can finally move on in the 52 books project.

I am really supposed to be doing some sort of WORK right now.

Instead, I am blogging, sitting in a coffee shop with a friend with a stack of papers next to me (that I am hoping will spontaneously generate a memo for class). I have also been reading This Time I Dance! which I got from my aunt at Xmas. I was, I admit, pretty skeptical at first, since my strong, over-indulged inner cynic does NOT do self-help books, but I'm actually enjoying it. I skim the parts that get a little too...gush, but the story - Harvard Law grad / corporate lawyer turned writer and creativity guru - is reassuring and exactly what I need to hear (or read - let's be picky) right now.

I would like to use my JD (assuming I get it) to pursue some sort of community activism / grassroots movement / advocacy. Possibly in the Pacific Northwest. And write fiction. And sleep well, through the night, and wake up not exhausted.

So. I'm putting that out there.

And, having admitted that (and having locked my cynic in a broom closet while ignoring her strident protestations), I do feel better :)