Somewhere in my boxes of writing stuff, probably in storage in California, is a legal pad with the opening lines of my memoir.

I wrote those words in 1985 and I remember them well. I can see the yellow pad. In fact, I saw it not too long ago, when packing up. When I wrote them, I had no idea how the rest of the pages would be filled.

Once we’re settled in January, whether it’s California, Colorado or somewhere else, I’m going to start the memoir. I’m going to rejoin the internet writing workshop I used to belong to. I’m going to cajole a friend who is a writer and doesn’t know it to get together periodically to workshop our stuff.

And I’m going to a writers’ conference in San Francisco mid-February. Yes, paid up registration, hotel reservation and all.

I said I’d take a break from teaching. That’s my plan.

And yet, would you believe that I sent an application in to be adjunct faculty in writing at a California college? Last week.

I wonder if I can get out of my own way.