I have been so busy for the past few weeks that my hours run into each other and trip over their own feet. There is nary a horizon on this sea of paperwork--my mind feels sluggish, as if dead in the water, sailing aimlessly; perhaps cabin fever is next. It is as if my creativity stands forgotten in a broom closet, where I set it aside for future use. The whole thing is making me feel out of sorts. My friend Natalie tells me she misses my voice in the world. So do I.