run run run run, run run run awaaaaaaaay.

After a mighty fine start, I am stalled, and woefully behind schedule on the re-writes.

Plus, I have a sneaking suspicion that I don't know what I'm doing.

I'm at the part of the process where I think about quietly sneaking away and hoping no one notices till I'm long gone. You know, like I do at the bars, except, like, with my whole life.

I would pack an overnight bag and drive away until I found a small town that was kind of like the one on Northern Exposure, but also like Santa Fe. I would be adopted as the mysterious, quirky, beloved stranger -- with a secret. I could open a jewelry store and grow my own food.

The thing about it, is that I actually could do this, and it wouldn't be that big of a deal. I mean, it would be a little bit of a deal, sure. But, ultimately, not that big of a deal. I've got a nice life, but nothing is really keeping me where I am.

However, while it makes for a delightful premise for a tv show or romance novel, I fear that I might run into some very non-romantic logistical problems if I did it.

Still, though.

This might be why I keep a car in Brooklyn.