It's been more than a month since I put away my creative writing work in favor of immersing myself in the holidays. My crate full of fiction projects is out of sight in the hall closet, my tray of current reading and writing guides hidden under the tablecloth that drapes the library desk only during this season. Lynn went back to school today, and I endeavored to put into place my new, more efficient, more focused plan for developing as a writer in 2003.

I was up at 5:30. I like silence in the morning, a time to read, write in my private journal, pray, prepare for the day ahead. I do that best at the kitchen table, where I can gaze at the vista still shrouded in darkness and then put on a light just bright enough to read by. If I lie abed too long Lynn has finished her shower and dressing and is occupying the kitchen. I love her energy, but  by the time she leaves at 7:30 my conscious mind is fully engaged and it's a challenge to find my center.

So this morning I had my coffee in silence and semi-darkness. After Lynn left I put into practice some of the principles I've been studying in Julie Morgenstern's Time Management from the Inside Out. For thirty years in the classroom I did very creative work on a schedule that someone else set. Although I designed my own lessons and had great freedom about how to present the curriculum, I had to follow a set schedule of first period, second period, etc. Five years out of that environment and I still struggle to manage my time productively on my own. I decided that although Lynn was back to school and the vacation atmosphere here was officially over, I'd spend today and tomorrow easing out of that mindset and back into real work. I tried to refresh my memory about what fiction projects I was working on when I stopped, and I made a chart for taking them up again next week.

I had one last holiday event. I was supposed to have lunch with a friend on Friday the 20th in Kutztown, Pennsylvania, about an hour northeast of here. Something complicated his schedule that day, but I went up anyway, visiting Bethlehem (about a half hour farther north) and having a wonderful experience at the Moravian Book Shop, a magical place at any season but decidedly so at Christmas. I thought about donning my gay apparel again today, but my heart wasn't in it.

After lunch I drove halfway to Bethlehem to visit the Lehigh Valley Mall. I'd been there on the 20th as well, bought the last of the gifts I needed, moving through the glittering store displays with the energy of the joy and good will I had been feeling all season. Today, however, everything looked tired and stale. There was nothing in any of the stores that I needed, nor even anything that I wanted to buy. I had a Cinnabon (there's no Cinnabon place in the Harrisburg area anymore), and was on my way before dark.

At Kutztown again I got off the interstate and took the parallel Old Route 22 for about ten miles through some pretty wooded country still sparkling silver from last week's snow. Snow is predicted again for tonight, and for much of those ten miles I was behind a highway maintenance truck that was spreading melting compound along the road.

By the time I got home Lynn was getting ready to leave for a sports event. Her schoolwork was spread around my study and I had to move her French notebook and her American literature text to check my e-mail. I knew I had only a few hours before she'd want my space again to finish her essay. 

Almost back to normal!