Wondering whether my open discussion of hopes to get back abroad at the earliest possible opportunity have brought on the present conditions in which getting abroad looks to be a long way off. I've wondered things like this before, never profitably. Perhaps some karmic jinx of some kind, the universe lining up in instinctive opposition.
So, the light at the end of the tunnel would appear to be an oncoming train -- but only within reality as presently understood by human beings. So, you know, there's hope.
My comfort is in the memories of specific places that pop into my mind, unsolicited, during the course of the day. And of course the whole point is to find a place to think, work, and write, so continuing on with those as best I can in the midtown gulag; hic Rhodus, etc.