So, 2008. The first year without pain. As of April 18th, it'll be a year since the operation that cured me.
I'm also spending this year putting out what may or may not be SFWP's last book, and the swansong of this organization I have helmed since 1999.
I'm also living on my own for the first time, effectively, in my life.
I'm clearing out a decade worth of shit from two storage units. And, when I say shit, I'm referring to absolute horror from deep within my life.
On May 10th, I'll turn 34.
I work, if you include SFWP and the weekend job, about 120 hours a week.
Which means I sleep slightly more than 40 hours a week.
That's more than six hours a night. Fairly decent...if evenly distributed, and if I wasn't starting to feel the years.
So, a proposal. I won't be able to travel this summer, thanks to the debt, so I'm going to block off one weekend a month that will be dedicated to drinking and smoking cigars. No work of any sort. No writing for entertainment or SFWP, nothing. Just fucking stop the world and sit on my porch.
I am, of course, at the core, a lonely person. And so I extend the invitation to everyone reading. One weekend a month with me, smoking fine cigars and sampling the alcohols of the world. Starting in April, ending in November.
First up: The weekend of April 12th.
