I'm almost at the point where I'm ready to start reading again.

I've been woefully under my typical reading pace for the better part of the past year. I can count the number of books I've read on one hand. (Biological papers, especially those pertaining to my thesis proposal number in the hundreds. But they're not exactly stress relief.) I find myself yearning for the time and energy to curl up with a good book. It's sad that I need time and energy for such a thing.

But the light is on the horizon, and that's good. The election - which has taken up my weekends that were not otherwise devoted to prior commitments - will be over one way or another in a week. My work is finally getting to the point where I'm multitasking in an organized manner, where I have three answers to "how are things going" instead of one. And even better, some things are actually going rather well. I'll be on a paper as a middle author before the end of the year, and I'll have some of my own stuff to talk about at my first departmental seminar in February. So, all good.

And I'm starting to sense that, much like tree sap after a long winter, my creative thoughts are starting to flow. I've actually had time to think about the novels in the past month. Not write or edit, but thinking itself is progress I was afraid I wouldn't make.

Now if I could just get to those thank you notes...
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