Playing a waiting game- don't know if I need to hit the road and attend a death watch. Am seriously hoping that it's a no. I haven't done one of those since I was a child, and that wasn't the same kind of thing. I wasn't there for the bitter end. Just close. And I knew. I've never forgotten. I likely never will, without some kind of brain trauma.

So waiting. And waiting. And hoping that it won't come to that.

In the meantime, just marking time. Wish that the concentration levels were more adapted to creating stuff- writing, other projects that are sitting on the dining table waiting for me, anything really. But no, too many nerves. Too much agitation. So it's drinking a glass (or 2- not more) sitting in front of the tv, and vegitating to HGTV. For some reason renovation shows are soothing. Not that I'm a homeowner to indulge. But it shows other people's lives, not my own. And it's creative. And I can disagree with their choices on occasion without feeling mean.

And that's pretty much a summation of my glamorous life. Waiting.