So here I am, trying to dig myself out of the black hole. And I'm doing okay, mostly. I'm going to the gym again, almost every day. I'm running. I'm making peace with the most recent spate of medical problems that is calling my future fertility into question. But mainly, I'm thinking about places to submit my work.

I have one piece, written originally for this page, that I think would be a match for the Sunday New York Times Magazine. I'm too broke to actually buy the paper (I read it online), so today I sneak into the trash room to appropriate a copy from one of my neighbor's discards.

I don't really look at the paper until I'm safely back in my apartment. And who's on the cover? The oh so nice boy who took me out to dinner a few years back and never called me again.

A setback in my positive thinking, yes.