Well, dear reader, the times are a-changing, and rapidly.
As I stride away from my tattered, pulpy little heart-puddle, I can only hope that your lives as of late have been filled with a lesser dose of dramatic doom.
October Karen was sure that her life could not become any greyer. This was after a greatly feared/actualized horrific moving experience, a broken car window, a sinus infection/near-fatal fever, continued weep-fests over the death of a dearly loved one, and several other small explosions of less notable import. Little did she know that November Karen would peer over her shoulder and positively YEARN to trade places.
However, I have spent a good deal of time sculpting/decoupaging December Karen into being. December Karen does the following things:
+Ceases to live in Over-Rated Art Warehouse of Passive Aggressive Tension
+Gets sweet room (still in San Francisco' s Mission District) in old Victorian House; room is sunny, cozy, filled with books and arty-girl decorations made by December and all Future Karens' efforts combined
+Begins graduate work at the University of San Francisco, earning in two years time the greatly desired piece of paper called MFA, Creative Writing
+Continues to design/actualize hand-stitched clothing/accessory line (Etsy site coming soon)
+Gallavants throughout the streets of San Francisco with veritable hordes of trustworthy, charming, and talented lads and lasses in tow
Also, I want a cat. He/she will be tiny and black and will bear proudly its badge: Triolet.
This, for now, is all of an "update" I can deliver. I continue to reel from the chicanery of the last several weeks, but now (shakily) stand re-empowered before you, a thrilling amalgam of hesitance and excitement over my newly acquired life path. While it diverts quite extremely from the one upon which I had been lumbering, it is filled with a room boasting much better interior design. And that, darlings, is never a negative.
With love, as always,
Your Adjective-Slinging Receptionist