As I made up my list of goals for this year, I noticed a shift in my priorities. That list is posted over on Anxiety Ink, if you’re curious.

(A recap of my Year of Being Crafty, as I dubbed 2015 at the start, will come soon. Spoiler: it was pretty good.)

What I want – what I’m hoping for – out of 2016 relies on other people. I am doing whatever possible to get there, whether writing the words or going to the auditions, and hoping for the best.


This means my travel plans are ambiguous because even the conventions I attend take a backseat to shows I may or may not be cast in.

It’s weird to relinquish so much active control. Good-weird.

But it is slightly exasperating not to be able to schedule my year. That’s the control freak peaking out. I still maintain that one of my subconscious reasons for building a house in the year or two after Dad died was to give myself something I could control.

I have the feeling this is going to be an interesting year…

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