I'm regressing into my teenage self, as I usually do when I'm back home chez famille. I haven't resorted to fighting with my brother yet, but that's only because he's got his own place now and has been busy doing whatever mysterious things it is that he does.
Meanwhile, I have been talking some well-earned time out, while also stressing about not having started on my novel for next term yet. My subconscious is still working hard, and that's got to count for something, right?
Visiting my old workplace yesterday was a slightly surreal experience. On one hand, it felt as though very little had changed, almost as though everything that has happened to me since has just been a dream; sooner or later I will wake up and have to go back to work. Yet at the same time, I'm aware of how much is different. I'm totally committed to doing something that I love, whatever may come of it. It feels good.