I wrote last week's post in Mexican airspace at 30,000 feet. Since then, I've landed in Manzanillo, Colima. Located about halfway down Mexico's Pacific coast, Manzanillo is home to Mexico's biggest port.
The city also hosts the airport closest to where I was supposed to house-sit.
Note the past tense.
That gig went sideways, and it is officially gone like yesterday.
So, I've been hanging out in a hotel room and roaming around town and controlling what I can control, which is spending tons of time writing and submitting short stories and eating lots of tacos.
On one of my taco-eating trips, the lady who ran the taquería asked if I'd like some tepache. I'd never heard of it, so of course I said yes.
While she was ladling a glass from the Thermos, I grabbed my phone to Google what I was about to drink.
Click this free link to read more about tepache. (Hint: pineapple rinds are involved).
I'm typing this at 30,000 feet on an Alaska Airlines flight from Los Angeles to Manzanillo.
I've got a house-sitting gig lined up in Colima, and I'm going to hunker down and write until my fingers are sore.
That is the entirety of my plan.
Beyond that, I'm following a mantra I picked up from Dascha Paylor: Commit and figure it out.
I've got a couple of writing projects on the front burners and a million more on the back burners, and there just isn't enough time in the day to work a regular job anymore.
So I'm taking a flying leap of faith and I'll let you know where I land when I get there.