Big things are happening.

I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I'm pretty sure that if there's ever been a time when I've been balanced, it's now. I've reached a point where I no longer feel antagonized by anything. I have my views on things, and I'm okay with people not agreeing with them - I'm even willing to open myself up for learning that my beliefs are invalid - but I'm just not up for all of the passionate discourse. I have much more tangible fish to fry.

It sounds alarmingly apathetic (and maybe that's what it is), but I no longer have use for unnecessary back-and-forth. I need action. I need things to start rolling.

I guess that's one of the reasons why I've decided that Rob and I will be together for a long time. I mean, yeah, I love him, but it's also this: I've been wondering and conjecturing and planning and hoping for more than four years now; we have a baby; he says he wants to give "us" a real try; and it's time to make a decision. I can't just keep analyzing. I have to actually do something. And as trigger-happy as I usually am, I'm just not up for ending things with Rob. Whether it's because of some mental problem or emotional baggage is beyond me. Fairies and leprechauns could have used my brain as a punching bag last night. My parents' relationship could have done me in from the get-go. It doesn't really matter. Yeah, that's right: my over-analytical mind has decided that the why doesn't matter. All that matters is what's there: my feelings, my loyalty, my love. I'd like to think that Rob's feeling it, too; that, after four years of me messing around with other people and constantly making him adapt to my new personas and facets, he's seen the best and the worst of me and decided that he loves it all. I can't be sure right now (or maybe I am sure, but I'm unwilling to make a straight-forward declaration), but I think that's where I'm at. I've spent a lot of time being in denial about Rob's flaws, but I've finally gotten a good, hard look at them, and decided that I love him, despite them. I have faith in his ability and desire to change, and in my ability and desire to stick through all the changes. And honestly, I imagine that he's had his share of the same irksome phases coming from me.

So there you have it. I've put my faith in love, and if Rob returns it... Well, we'll see.

There are also big things happening on the writing front. Now that I'm on my summer break, I've decided to really work at my writing. I mean, really work at it. Like a full-time job. Seven hours a day. Revising, editing, the whole nine. I have four manuscripts that I'm working on, and none of them have less than 85 pages. Only two of them are finished first drafts. I'm hoping that I can rekindle the voice and the mindset I had when I was writing them, so I can finish them and start looking for an agent. Then I can tackle the projects that are more contemporary: the scripts I'm working on about dom life, the short story collection about 23 intersecting 23-year olds, etc.

The seven-hour workdays aren't just about finishing my long projects; it's also about finding freelancing writing and editing gigs. I've been lucky so far with culling information from writer- and journalist-friends, and I'm just hoping that I don't burn out.

Truthfully, this is the most exhilarating time of my life. I'm doing all of the things that I love, and I have taken out all of the stops. No more doubting. No more second-guessing. No more over-analyzing. It's all just planning and execution. Cut and dry. Black and white. There are no maybes here. Only definitive answers. Yes or no. In or out.

I've noticed that I've become generally impatient. People tell me about their problems with getting started or making decisions, and I have no empathy, no understanding. I can't allow myself to step back into their shoes because I'm afraid this new freedom will leave me if I do so. I'm afraid I'll forget how to be this way, how to lunge forward without fear, how to give everyone the finger and keep on trudging along. It's taken a long time for me to build this kind of confidence, to be able to say, "I've done a lot of soul-searching, and this is what I'm about. Deal with it."

I'm going to be here for four years, and when I used to think about those four years, they felt so long. But in those four years, I plan on earning a degree, forging a *real* writing career, and maybe even adding to my family. I want to return to New York as the woman of my dreams: self-actualized and real. And suddenly, four years seems like a blink of an eye. I have to rush just to meet all of my goals.