In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

Today’s “bad news-good news” cycles goes thusly:

Bad news: I got a rejection email from The Sun.

Good news: It’s not taking them as long as it used to.

I choose to see this as good news (the rapidity with which they politely blow me off). I am not sure why, but it works for me. And maybe someday I will be published in that beautiful publication. Truthfully, it’s the act of submitting that holds more power for me these days (although, if I am honest – which I always try to be – publication would be lovely. Let’s not kid ourselves any).

So the rejections pile up, and still I am working to unearth and uncover and disclose. It is harder than you might imagine, this actual being honest with yourself. We are all stars in our own movie, and as such it is easy to cast ourselves in a favorable light.

But it’s the shadow I am now (and always have been) interested in. It shifts, though, and is hard to catch (I think there is a cartoon about that, catchiong your shadow, but it escapes me).

Anyway. Today is the last day of 47. Tomorrow I am officially in my late forties. Two years from Fiji (is how I am choosing to look at that factoid). Twenty-two years from taking up smoking again, and 32 years from smoking heroin in a shack on an island.

It’s good to plan ahead.