Welp, today is the last day of August. Tomorrow starts the first month completely without Housemate. I got through the first Real Life Romance Hero birthday without the man himself, and I am thankful it was spent with Housemate’s family, even though A) they didn’t know it was RLRH’s birthday, and B) we were in the frenzy of paperwork that comes with what happens after a loved one passes. I am still running in circles connecting Housemate’s Family with property management. We are trying to follow the law and want to give PM money. Can we do that, please?

Right now, I am in determination mode. I am fried. I need time to grieve, not only Housemate, but I was still working through RLRH’s loss, and then all of this got dumped in my lap. There are too many things to do for me to do them all on my own, as I am one grieving, anxious, depressed, visually impaired person with PTSD and CPTSD. I am also a superfirstborn, aka only child, so I am used to the “fine, I’ll do it myself” mindset. The next big day on the calendar is my birthday in October, which has a zero in it, ad to say that I did not expect to be spending that day alone is perhaps the biggest understatement in this post. Not even going to touch the more universal holidays, because I cannot deal with that right now.

Facebook Marketplace has been a complete bust. Three inquiries, three ghosts. Once I get my new bank card (physical copy) I will shift into online selling, largely in destashing groups on FB. I want storage unit two empty by October, and hopefully carry the first one for the winter and then deal with it in spring. I need to generate income. Right now, that has to be liquidating stuff, because there is So Much Stuff that getting rid of it is a full time job. There is furniture in them thar storage units. I haven’t even had a chance to go through RLRH’s stuff. I am overwhelmed and exhausted and excited about taking care of these practicalities because I want to write fiction. I need to write fiction. With digital and indie publishing, getting my stories out in the world is both easier and harder than I could have imagined only a few years ago. I would still love to publish traditionally again, especially with one of the big publishers. I am okay if that does not happen and I am okay if it does. I am a writer either way.

I am already looking forward to the next iteration of improv class. I made it to two out of the four sessions for this round, and learning that I was not the only person in class using improv to deal with grief was actually encouraging. I am delving into a personal curriculum (yes, it involves romance novels) and have a strong desire to pick the journals and notebooks that I am actively using right now, and putting the rest of them (that I am keeping) away for when it is their turn. This is not a hoard, it is more like a wine cellar, that comes with a risk of paper cuts.

Thanks much for reading this far. If you’re so inclined, the Go Fund Me is still open and seventy percent of the way to goal. Every single donation helps. If we meet goal within two weeks, I will be doing a cover reveal for A Heart Most Errant (spoiler: it’s gorgeous) on that page before it’s available anywhere else.

Seeing as how that was my whimsical way to round out a heavy emotional dump (and yes, I was holding back) that is also my signal to bring this entry to a close. Writing is still my best thing and favorite thing, so I will be writing a lot. Stay tuned.