Sell crap- check

If you've missed me this past week, it's because I have been in my garage. Cleaning, sorting, and sign-making led to a weekend garage sale to beat all garage sales. We rocked. Like Christmas time at Rosedale, people just kept coming and buying shit. I mean, stuff. Teeny tiny microwave from husband's old apartment, gone. AC unit weighing a little more than a baby elephant, gone. Leather jacket from 1987, complete with Bon Jovi-like fringe (I kid you not), gone. Ah, the joy of cleaning house. In the process I also met many of my neighbors and got the inside scoop on the goings-on. Who died recently, who has wicked fights on their back deck, whose children required nightly police interventions. I know it all now. I am in the loop.

Now my attention has shifted from my garage to my thesis. Yeah, remember that little project? I meet with my advisor tomorrow and I am anxious/excited/ill to my stomach. She will have comments on my first draft. I will drink lots of coffee and listen to her while trying not to twitch too much. I will also try not to cry when she is done, and then I will go home and start over.

I love my advisor though. Read her book, The Grass Dancer. It's lovely.