Saturday

• 7:15am  Waves rolling in slow motion, sleepy and cold.  Like me.  Need more coffee.  Will watch the sunrise from my living room.
• 7:40am  Sunbella is finally up.  Only a solo beachwalker braving the nasty wind to welcome her.
• Finished editing my book yesterday.  Makes me wonder -- is it any good at all??
• Went to the Surfside writer's group meeting.  Good people, fascinating story ideas being critiqued.  I felt left out -- didn't know anything about their material and had nothing of my own to share.  Telling myself it's just the first meeting.  Go back, it'll get better.
• Eight horses on the beach today, galloping this time, not strolling.  It was high tide, not much sand to gallop on.  Good thing the beach was deserted, except for a little Beagle straining on his leash to get acquainted with the horses.
• For the first time since I've been here, I feel lost.  What am I doing here?  I have no friends, no lover, just the beach and my writing.  Maybe this desolate feeling is normal after finishing a project (my book) that I've put my heart and soul in.  Maybe the weekend is making me crazy because I have too much time and no commitments.  Funny, when I was back home I craved a free weekend all to myself, to nap and read and do anything my heart desired.  Maybe that's the question I should be asking:  when you actually get what your heart desires, what next?
• I'm not the only one escaping or dream seeking here.  Just met Kathleen from Massachusetts in the hot tub.  I've seen her every night floating in the outdoor pool, regardless of the wind whipping up white caps, looking like she's in heaven.  She's staying until March, maybe for good if she can find work, and loving it.  She didn't plan on living here, it just happened.  Everyone I've met is from somewhere else, came here for one reason or another and stayed.  When you ask how long they've been here, they seem surprised to say "six years" or "23 years," like the time just slipped up on them.