This Creature is Lore

I am taken with a sort of semi-manic fatigue lately. The barrage of activities, classes, committees, and gatherings into which I’ve jumped the past couple years--esp. the past six months--might not daunt your average overachiever much, but I’m a lifelong underachiever recently converted. I’m starting to suspect my low energy level can’t handle this indefinitely, and/or that I’ve still not established sustainable methods of time management. The upside is that I barely have time to dwell on anxiety, my confidence has increased exponentially, and I perceive myself as an active and contributing member of my community rather than an unworthy alien. Yet more and more, I get some sense I’ll always be alien in some way, not a bad way per se, but not always in an easy way.

( Rambling about writing that I’ve been meaning to post for the better part of a week. )

Why do I get the feeling my winter break is going to consist of a lot of writing, and a lot of reading metric verse aloud in my lair?