Anne Woodland

            Sometimes I consider what sort of character I would be in a novel, and when so doing I usually end up writing some third person narrative of such a situation.  Here are a few short, self-descriptions.  (I should add as a disclaimer, that I am almost always in a low mood when I do this type of thing.): If asked, Anne would have described herself as “decently pretty, but by no means beautiful”.             She had been an affectionate and tenderhearted child, and perhaps, beneath the thorns of her sarcasm, she still possessed those traits.  She had been too effective at keeping everyone at arm’s length to know one way or another.             She spent most of her time feeling helpless, hopeless, and pointless.  It was not a pleasant pool of sentiments to dwell in, but she’d marinated i...

            Moving is simultaneously exciting, exhausting, and frustrating.   There’s the adventure of a new place and meeting new people, but then there’s the myriad of physical exertions necessary to settle in a new place: hefting, cleaning, rearranging, laundry, etc.   Finally, there is the annoyance that comes from having too much junk, despite the few boxes that have inevitably disappeared somewhere in the moving process. (Right now I’m just grateful that I don’t have any children. That would make this whole moving business a million times more complicated!)             Also, I don’t know if this is just me or if it’s a common issue, but not having all my things organized makes it so difficult to concentrate on anything remotely intellectual!   I’m very annoyed by this, since at least fifty percent of the reason I made this move is so that I could have the...