Nearing the end of February already. I have accomplished nothing.
The second issue of Hazel Harper has not yet been born. Maybe soon... maybe not.
It's the brain fog, you see. It seeps in, virtually unnoticed, making thoughts impossible to pull into focus. It is brought on by life. A mind numbing daily life of things that must be done. Wake up, feed the kids, shuffle them off to school, do what's necessary to keep the abode livable, talk to the necessary people, try to scrounge something up for consumption... something edible and almost recognizable, make sure most things get halfway done, collapse for a few hours of interrupted sleep, begin again.
Of course there have been movies. And books. And knitting projects. And of course there have been visits from relatives and friends. There have been dinners out and mild drama and listening to podcasts and music and doing the millions of things we all do every day. But there has been no writing. No drawing. No choosing how to present the scribbles and the thoughts. No cutting and pasting and printing and stapling. No zine.
But it will happen sooner or later. Eventually. In the vague future.