(For the young ,,, it's from You're So Vain. Broaden your horizons some great stuff happened before you were born.)
So today I took the life proof case off my phone because I'm tired of breaking my thumb nail opening the ports. Yep, a total girl reason! (In case you missed that bulletin I am a girl ... despite the emails I've had addressed to Mr. Connor, I am in fact a girl. Girls can know stuff about weapons and other 'boy' stuff ya know.) Must admit to being a tad nervous without the life proof case on though. Regular cases just seem so flimsy (cos they are). If I get too jumpy I'll put it back on.
In other news ... I'm writing.
Yeah really, blogs require such.
Might be a bit of a smartass too?
I'm writing psychobyte. I got over the not-sure-where-this-going thing and am just writing. Screw it. What's the worst that could happen? No man left standing? If that's what is supposed to happen then that's how it will go. No point worrying about it. Damn complicated story. So many freaking balls in the air right now!
Had to go into town this morning and do a few things. While I was there I voted. (Have you?)
Nice having polling booths open early this year.
Spent some time shopping with Beck today. I had a list of things to seek out. Ticked everything off the list. Also remembered to pick Breezy up early and go back to school for her parent teacher interview (that I only found out about on my way out this morning). Winning.
Can't quite explain the crappy mood I'm in however. Suspect it's this book and not having it closer to being finished. Might also be tired. Worked late last night then couldn't sleep because I worked late ... my brain wouldn't shut up. It's all the balls in the air and the fear of dropping the bouncy little buggers.
Yes, I know it's not happened yet ... but it only takes the once!
Never say never ... yeah that old trite thing, happens to be true.
The last scene I wrote today looks like this:
raw words/not edited/just writing
Kurt and I stood in the kitchen. Neither of us spoke.
The envelope sat upon my counter waiting for someone to open it. There was a chance that the envelope was the innocent victim of my inherent mistrust of people. That the lack of postmark was because someone I knew dropped it off in person rather than mailing it. That it was an invitation to an event and not at all sinister. Also, pigs fly and unicorns poop rainbows and no one has ever tried to kill me or broken into my home before.
My laughter took me by surprise.
Kurt spun to face me.
“Share?” he said.
“It’s an envelope … let’s just open the fucking thing.” I tilted my head toward him. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Oh I don’t know, fiery death, viral death, zombie apocalypse. All of the above.” He grinned at me and bumped his arm into mine. “It’s you Conway, you attract some peculiar people and most of them want to shorten your life.”
“It’s a gift.”
* * *
Kurt tipped the envelope. Nothing loose moved. No powder rushed to the lowest corner. Probably not anthrax or heroin or cocaine. Love that I thought anthrax before schedule I and II drugs. Could be paper laced with the Ebola virus. For all I knew that could be a thing now. I felt like we should be wearing Level A Hazmat suits – the ones with self-contained breathing apparatus.
Kurt walked around the counter and opened a drawer. He removed a steak knife and slipped it under the seal of the envelope.
“Now’s a good time to pray Conway,” he said with a grin as he slit the top of the envelope open and carefully extracted the contents. He unfolded a single sheet of paper.
I could see his eyes over the paper in his hands as he read. It didn’t look good.
“What is it?”
He looked over the paper at me. “Fan mail.”
“Am I happy about it?”
His head shook a little.
My heart sank. Another lunatic surfacing was the very last thing I needed. Kurt handed me the letter. I scanned it not really wanting to read it at all.
See, I am writing.
And then this song comes on:
And my thought process stopped. :)