Compost

Today I am starting a compost pile, my first ever, and it seems oddly appropriate to also begin this journal on the same day: tossing chopped up veggies and old history and scraps of paper into these two heaps. Of course, I am insane to start any new project right now. I am sixteen days away from heading off to Odyssey and nine weeks away from the start of Scrabble Nationals. I should be studying or writing or cleaning closets.

Before leaving for Odyssey, I need to complete one more story (I've sent two so far). I'm a little reluctant to just grab one from my rough drafts folder. It's not that I don't have plenty to work with. I suppose I want to just start fresh. Odyssey is in many ways a true start for me. I've done a lot of writing. Editors have liked and bought my work. Writing is important, even vital. But I keep holding back from truly going for it, from saying "This is what I do, who I am."

So I say it.

This is what I do. This is who I am.

Before Nationals, I just need to learn all the rest of the words. That's all.

I'm working my way through a stack of flashcards -- actually I'm not quite finished making the flashcards, but will be by the time I leave for Odyssey -- of all the eights that have no sevens in them. I'm alternating this study with my study of stems. Stems are great and useful, but these eights with no sevens are a blast. Sannyasi, papyrian, apoapsis, kalyptra, santalol... I love this list!

Actually, I do want to know all the words. For Nationals, I will be pleased if I manage to get through the event without humiliating myself. (As I'm defining that myself, I will be the one to judge whether or not I succeed.) Oh, and I'd like to avoid having my picture taken much. Simple goals.

On the home front, Daniel and Aaron both got their driver's licenses yesterday. I'm not too nervous yet. I think I'm in denial.