I think they are leaving. I no longer see the hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of ants.

Spring Break is over and it is time to get back to school work. At least I'm on the downside. There is about 6 weeks left in semester. I can do 6 more weeks. For my lit class we just finished up our poetry unit. Writing poetry for me was like pulling teeth without Novocaine. I wrote a Ballad, which I don't think it really classifies as a ballad. We'll see when I get my grade. I also wrote a shaped verse, which was fun and challenging. A sonnet, which is unlike anything Shakespeare would have done. And lastly a Haiku. Now that was interesting. If i find the guts, I might post them here in the future.

My break didn't go as planned. I had in mind to read for pleasure. Read for pleasure some more, and write like the 50 mph gusts of winds we are currently receiving. Unfortunately my wind lasted one day, and it was only a small burst. I wrote about 1500 words on Cherish Me for the week. I was able to go through and add some more shine to Hellion's Highlander. I'm about 2/3 of the way.

The funny thing about HH is that it has been polished, and polished, and polished, so much so that my brain fills in words that aren't even there, or misspells them. That is where beta readers come in handy. They see things that you don't. They see things your critique partners missed, and they let you know when they are confused by something. Unfortunately, I didn't pick up a beta reader until after I sent requested material off. At first I was embarrassed. But now, I'm not too bummed by it. If I miss my chance this go around that's okay. Don't get me wrong, I really, really would like to find representation. The right representation. And I'd really, really, really love to have a contract. But I know this is a tough business and with the economy the way it is, the business is getting tougher. We all want our stories to be published. We all want to see our names on the bookshelves. But why? Is it for fortune and fame? Or is it because you've got to tell a story?

We're in for a round of hellacious storms this afternoon and into the evening. Fun, fun. You all know how I feel about those. I woke up with a minor migraine, I'm sure due to the front coming in. Which means the migraine won't leave until the storms fire up and move on. The weather guys are on the fence. Some say we could see large, long lasting tornadoes, others are down playing the threat. Oh well, as usual we won't know until it gets here. I try to convince myself that there is nothing I can do and worrying over the fact that storms are on the horizon will only serve to give me a heart attack. But, there is just something about imminent storms that sets my phobia to uncontrollable levels. I've experienced them. I've seen the shear power of them as they spin around churning up whatever is in its path. I've seen the aftermath.

People pay damn good money to vacation with storm chasers, which baffles me. Heck, they can rent my home for a month for less, and probably see more. Back to seriousness though, this year I pray no towns are wiped off the map. I pray death and destruction are at a minimal. I pray this year we have a record low of tornadoes and not record highs.