I Quit.
There is only so much light.
I have not published anything recently (though I think the words I wrote to accompany a photo essay by Tara Rice in Maine Farms Journal will be out soon) and all I can think about is jobs, so…
November, historically, is a great month for quitting. Here in so-called Maine, it’s about to get dark as hell (I went to the community acupuncturist one January, dripping with tears, pronouncing “the darkness” as the reason for my visit) and awfully cold. Darkness falls like a heavy curtain. I rarely go outside or leave my house after dark. This time of year has come to feel like a deadline for having my ducks in a row, to make sure whatever is on this side of the curtain with me is tolerable.
