Ah, St Petersburg. Was it all a dream? It felt dreamlike even at the time, so it should be no wonder that I'm having trouble focusing on it now. I'm having trouble focusing on anything for more than a few seconds, actually. I blame the jetlag.
Back in the city. Getting back in the swing. Getting organized. Figuring it all out. Writing again. Reading as much as ever. So much more focused than I felt before this overwhelmingly grand adventure. The future is wide open, and that's wonderful and frightening and liberating and unfathomable. Another blank page for the taking. Lists to be made, schedules to keep, deadlines to impose on myself. Let's do it.
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