Realizing just how short a person is on time is a very, very strange sensation.

So it’s tax season. My day job, as you well know, is in an accounting office, and this season means that it’s extreme overtime. My getting out of work no longer depends on the clock – instead it depends on everything that needs to be done actually getting done. I know that people always say, “don’t take your work home”, but now is the time that this goes out the window.

That, plus the fact that I come back to a manuscript and design projects, means that my time has to be, quite literally, micromanaged, if I want to get everything put together.

So, my lovelies, if I hadn’t been in touch with you for a long while for whatever reason, hold it not against me. ‘Tis the times. I’m percolating your projects too, even if it costs me sleep.

It gets at me, though, in the regard that I often feel that I neglect people, because I’m this busy. As a result, some of my wonderful friends expressed their concerns, for which I am quite grateful. It wasn’t my intention to get off the social radar because of work, and in two weeks, I will have a small break wherein I can catch up with everyone. And I mean everyone.

Thanks, all, for your thoughts.

K.G.

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