To Whom It May Concern

I know it's been forever since I've written in this blog. Everything is so incredibly crazy and awesome that it's hard to remember that things need to be kept track of.

I'm going home on Tuesday and I've never been more excited to go back to my sleepy little town. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed, be with my cat, read a book by the fire and just relax until I have to return for finals.

Time seems to be stretched out here. Days feel like weeks, weeks feel like months, months feel like years. If things keep going at this pace, I'll be an old maid before I know it. I was home not too long ago, but it feels like ages and ages have passed since I last wandered the familiar streets of home.

It's hard, but I've got to meet my New Years Resolution. I *need* to finish my novel. It just has to be done, otherwise I'll always be stuck in this perpetual weirdness. I hate that my writing tends to mirror my life, because then I'm left with no definite ending. I don't want to be my character, but it's so hard to separate the two personalities. I'm not sure that I can even describe everything that's running through my head right now when it comes to this story. I wish I could just pull myself out, but I'm too involved now. There's too much of me in this story. I'll never get myself out until I finish it. Sometimes I wish I was my character, just because I feel like I know her so much better than I do myself.

...

To Whom It May Concern by Emery