A hard snow is gonna fall, so the forecasters say, eight to twelve inches of snow, come this Saturday.
Burma Shave.

Since I was in the other county today, I went over to the local café for lunch since the county has terrible accomodations for searchers. There's a tiny room for eating and this hawk-nosed little bitch is always hanging out in there giving everyone the stinkeye.
After I ate and futzed a little on my phone, I wrote some in my notebook. It's an outline / first draft for a second story which probably aligns with the other story draft I completed on Wednesday. Just a different time of year and possibly a different year.
Thing is, I felt like I was very mean while writing it because one character resembles someone I know. And because of that, I made another character have a personality like someone I know a lot better. Even if no one "gets the joke", I'll know the joke and that'll be enough for me.

on writing

Just had a marvelously big poop (eat your oatmeal, kids) and while washing my hands I wondered if it was acceptable to use real-world people as characters, even if the characters aren't a pastiche / caricature / roman à clef of the real world person. A particularly loud thought chimed in, "There are no rules in writing. The only reason why it appears there are rules in writing is thanks to English teachers and self-important authors who believe their methods are one-size-fits-all rather than being tailored for themselves through trial and error."
Well, makes sense to me. The only real rule in writing is to write.


My therapist told me about what happened when she received my text requesting an appointment. She had been in the middle of some family drama, members going back and forth, and the thread had quieted down so she put the phone aside. Then she received another alert, rolled her eyes, and was surprised to see it was from me. She admitted that she had me in her "family" group of texters.


One of the toughest things about my situation is when Leah calls me by my first name, rather than some affectionate moniker like "honey" or "dear". When I'm talking with her, I make a point of addressing her that way. When she calls me by my first name, it feels like an affirmation of "You are no longer a part of me nor my life. Know your place" and it hurts despite all of the shitty things she's done to me before, during, and after the situation. I don't want her to feel like she's trash and readily disposed, and I'm treating her as I would like to be treated by others. I know the few times when I called her by her first name, I used it to be hurtful and to demonstrate apartness.
Thing is, I presume she doesn't give a shit because she has so many friends. Some of them from nursery school! WhY dOn'T yOu StIlL hAvE fRiEnDs FrOm NuRsErY sChOoL? What's one garbage human being's opinion to her anyway? Regardless of the life shared between her and the trash.
Anyway I'm trying to be a better human being, even to her. Leah, on the other hand, is motherfucking perfect. Flawless. Yet she is magnaminous to deign to point out the foibles of mere peasants, issuing advice like royal proclaimations which may only work for her. Or at least sound to her like they should work for everyone.

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