22 June 2001

I don't know why it always works this way.

When I have something really good happen, I'm always sad afterwards for no reason at all. It's the very next day, or maybe two days later. This time, though, the computer Issues masked it on Wednesday, interfered, made themselves the focus. So it's today. No reason at all.

I've tried ferreting out reasons. Am I disappointed because I'm done with something big? That doesn't really apply in this case; I was pretty much done with "Irena's Roses" when I sent it out this last time. I hadn't been involved in it, so there isn't really post-project letdown, which is how I explained this when it happened after finishing my books. And my other big projects have been going strong. Am I scared I'm not going to do anything this cool again? Not really; I finished writing this particular story quite awhile ago, and I've liked other things I've done since then (although I do have to admit this is one of my favorites). Is it that I wish someone had responded in some way in which he/she didn't? I don't think so. I haven't heard from some people on this, but it's okay; the people I really needed to hear from either have already congratulated me or have some good excuse. Nobody's really making me feel ignored.

And I don't even feel overwhelmed by my guest-related tasks; Amber finally contacted me about getting together next week, so I'm working on the parts that are beyond my control, and I figure I've got the rest well in hand. (With a few well-placed hands helping me out tomorrow as well -- it's not just my house, although sometimes it feels that way -- I'm definitely the one who notices when something needs to be cleaned or bought.)

I could slap all kinds of labels on it, but I don't think any of them fit, and I don't want to be boxing things up and not dealing with them in their own shapes. I know the shape of this one. I just don't know why it's here.

So I don't know what it is. It's not that strong, it's not that fierce, it's just a gentle melancholy.

These things happen.