I missed the writer's retreat yesterday. :( Sometimes life just won't let you do exactly what you want to do. I am continuing work on the novel. I have no idea if it's good or not, but it seems the thing I should be doing, and so I write.

In the meantime, the search for gainful employment continues.

Self doubt, recrimination, these are all standard parts of my genetic makeup, born of years of feeling inadequate in the face of tremendous accomplishment.

Perhaps it's time to alter my self talk?