August Nights
I completely forgot to tell my employer that I need a day off Monday. (I know! Monday!!) So I'll tell him tomorrow morning so that he can get a sub for me.
I didn't mention yesterday that Fil called me while I was at work, around 6.30 and left a msg apologizing about not having called earlier. He didn't give me a reason for it. He asked me to call him back. I didn't call nor did I wait for him to call me later that night. But earlier this afternoon during my break, I text msged him this:
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I had it wrong. Tell me about it soon after work. Lov Grace."
What I wanted to say was "I wasn't there last night. You called a little too late and that was uncool. I don't appreciate being just an afterthought. Better recognize. Grace."
I'm not waiting for his call tonight either. I can't listen to anymore midnight talkers. I'm tired.
One of my old friends is having a bday bbq bash this coming saturday. Maybe I'll go. August is still my month for everything fun.
I can't forget about that session on Wednesday morning. I've got a lot of forms to photocopy and locations to find. I have no idea where it is.
I'm having a difficult time with my novel in creating a significant conflict. Right now, it's a series of developing scenes that lead to a happy ending. I see the big picture in my mind but I can't seem to break it down to major events in a plausible sequence.
My new favourite weekend pastime is lounging out in the patio while the sun is still out. I love it. The wind caresses your face, tickles your neck, your arms, your fingers, your legs. You don't even mind the occasional fly rippling through your light-as-air thoughts like a pebble in a pond or the obnoxious pocket bikes that tear through your mind wounding your patience only a little. It's your escape. And it's in these small hours that sanity is regained.
GW
I didn't mention yesterday that Fil called me while I was at work, around 6.30 and left a msg apologizing about not having called earlier. He didn't give me a reason for it. He asked me to call him back. I didn't call nor did I wait for him to call me later that night. But earlier this afternoon during my break, I text msged him this:
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I had it wrong. Tell me about it soon after work. Lov Grace."
What I wanted to say was "I wasn't there last night. You called a little too late and that was uncool. I don't appreciate being just an afterthought. Better recognize. Grace."
I'm not waiting for his call tonight either. I can't listen to anymore midnight talkers. I'm tired.
One of my old friends is having a bday bbq bash this coming saturday. Maybe I'll go. August is still my month for everything fun.
I can't forget about that session on Wednesday morning. I've got a lot of forms to photocopy and locations to find. I have no idea where it is.
I'm having a difficult time with my novel in creating a significant conflict. Right now, it's a series of developing scenes that lead to a happy ending. I see the big picture in my mind but I can't seem to break it down to major events in a plausible sequence.
My new favourite weekend pastime is lounging out in the patio while the sun is still out. I love it. The wind caresses your face, tickles your neck, your arms, your fingers, your legs. You don't even mind the occasional fly rippling through your light-as-air thoughts like a pebble in a pond or the obnoxious pocket bikes that tear through your mind wounding your patience only a little. It's your escape. And it's in these small hours that sanity is regained.
GW
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