As of now, we have slightly less than four months until this ridiculous exclusion order’s lifted and I can finally return to Canada. That thought cheers me. Now, all I have to do is survive another 120 days more or less and it’s all good.
Right now, tonight, that seems do-able if I have to, and that might not be the case.
Now, is this surviving in any real sense? I don’t know. I could cite literary or film examples of those who survive “but at what cost?”, but they don’t really describe what I want to say. Yeah, I paid for this trip. Be sure about that. I also intend to get something back in exchange, because I believe I was done wrong. I mean I’d like to sue if possible. If not, and I can still stay in Canada, I believe I still would although this is a serious rift between us, as with lovers.
Is this surviving? I’m like those who wake angry to have woken at all at this point. What? Not in my sleep? Come on—
But I manage to keep writing. Almost 180 drafts that I think I can live with, altho elements are shortly off to a committee of my colleagues after AWP ends. That gives me a goal to shoot for. For me, what I’m about to do constitutes a small bit of proof I haven’t totally fallen off the Pacific coast, that in fact I’ve been at my labors the whole time, and always will be. More soon.