Struck me today as I was walking that I haven’t started 2009 with a bang. This includes blogging. Any new readers that have come my way probably aren’t impressed with me at the moment.

My brain’s foggy, trying to wade through my priorities for 2009.

I just wrote seven rambling paragraphs and erased them because I don’t know what I’m feeling and what I meant to convey. In those seven paragraphs I admitted to desperation and disappointment and fear.

I suppose what’s really on my mind is this: I’m returning to my life as of summer 2007. That is, I’m back to technical writing to pay the bills (writing grant kaput) with no publishing contract in sight (literary agent kaput). And this feels like a sad, been-there-done-that, what’s-the-point way to start the new year.

One question intrudes even though I keep pushing it out of my mind in the quest for hope and optimism: Since I’m back to this, is this where I’ll always remain?

Answer: Hopefully not; it must not be; perish the thought. But funny how the question persists, buzzing at me like a pesky fly.

I’ve decided that for the New Year I’ve got to ease up on Lisa the Writer and get back to being Lisa the Whole Person. This will help, I think.