My inner feminist is pleased. By grannyvibe, for one thing. And by something I was talking with my friend Asha (who has taught both high school and college) about earlier. Specifically, by the way young women in their twenties seem very self-possessed and at home in themselves, compared to the way I felt when I was that age. They don't, as a group, seem to feel that they have to hide their light under a bushel--physically or mentally--and witnessing that makes me feel proud to be a woman.
You go, girls.
I'm reading Tales of Neveryon, apartment-hunting (three phone calls today, two yesterday, nothing yet), and failing to get any writing done. Brain still empty. Battery charging.
Gotta get that proposal for Undertow finished before too much longer--my Puritan work ethic is starting to eat at me. Unfortunately, it's not bringing any brilliant ideas along with it yet.