Darlings,

For now, we are not going to discuss my FRIEND (friend!) the Man of Steel. I know you've got your panties all in a twist but just calm down OK?

The most important thing is, I survived, thanks to a raging river that was too scary for even the Man of Steel to cross. Or, rather, too scary for this *dog* to cross. If he'd asked me too, I would have forded it, and been swept away to certain death in the process. But lucky for me his dog has been a bit lame of late. Man of Steel worried the dog couldn't handle it. Therefore I did not have to make excuses on my own behaf but instead, agree, sympathetically, "Oh yes, this would be too hard for the dog."

We then hiked an easy trail to a pleasant lake, where we sunbathed and swam in complete Blue Lagoon-like isolation. It was all so much mellower than the original death march he had planned. The dog was rather relieved.

In other news, it could be that I'm emerging from my pre-midlife crisis or it could be that I've merely been distracted from it, but somehow in the last few days I've felt less horrible than I have the previous month. A little bit less like that takeout that time forgot and a little bit more like...me again.

Perhaps its because I'm getting out more. Now that I've finished my book, I can go away for the weekend without fearing that I won't meet my deadline. I can bike and hike and do all those things that make me feel good.

I'm still frightened as hell, don't get me wrong. I'm going through a major life transition in which I'm leaving a part of my life behind. That childhood self that wanted nothing more than to publish a novel. Well, now I've done it. So what's next?

I don't know. I have to finish saying bye-bye to the young, innocent me. And then, God only knows. A change is coming, I feel it in my bones, I just haven't figured it out. Yet.