Tonight is the first night of an annual writing retreat that I usually attend. About a month ago, I decided not to go.
If I were there, I probably would be getting ready for bed, maybe reading or writing a journal entry. I would have attended the opening meeting--which is a mixture of meet and greet with a boring review of the weekend timetable--mostly unnecessary because the timetable is printed and handed out.
I didn't go this year because I left last year's retreat with more negative than positive feelings. That was a first. Why? Well, it was usually hot last year; I wasn't able to write outside. Some of the other writers annoyed me. Maybe I just need a break.
It ends up that this is a good week for me to be home. I've got a few tutoring students scheduled this weekend. I'll go on a WPA mural tour, though I won't be needed to lead a group.
Plus, I still hope to arrange a writing retreat of my own.