For the last two years, this has been the day I would have left for the ACFW conference.
I really didn't think this was a year I was supposed to go. I still don't. I knew last year, when I went three months pregnant I wouldn't be back this year unless something miraculous happened. And, aside from the birth of Charming, the miraculous didn't happen.
Hubs didn't sell his business so that he could accompany me.
I didn't finish another novel.
I haven't improved my last novel.
There's no point in going.
This is the conference that brought me out of my PPD from Frodo. This conference meant more to me spiritually than any "real" biblical conference has since I was 15. It is my spiritual get-away. And I'm not getting away.
It helps that two of my roomies from last year aren't going either. We can comfort each other this weekend. But my roomie from the year before just decided last Friday she could go.
So I'm going to assume that ache in my tummy is envy.
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