12,893 Days Alive
414 Day Streak on Duolingo
16 Chapters Prepped for NaNoWriMo
We have a tiny nightshade plant growing in a crack in the ground on our balcony. I’d take a picture, but it’s dark out. When I remember to do so, I will.
Plants growing in unexpected places can be a metaphor for triumph over adversity. But then again, sometimes a pretty flower is just a pretty flower.
Forgive me, I’m tired. Nightmares again last night. I dreamt of death in a very negative fashion. Everyone around me died and I was left holding, literally, memories of them and fighting to keep the memories, and by extension their spirits, alive. A very troubling dream.
This has been a long week.
I have therapy with Vickie tomorrow. I am, as ever, not looking forward to it. I feel like I have to fight to keep her on topics I need help with. I don’t know. She’s just a bad fit for me but I’m too lazy to find a different therapist right now. Covid-19 means that a lot of places are only helping established patients. Maybe in a few months I’ll find someone new.
I’m back to alone in the office. It sucks and it’s lonely, but someone has to hold down the fort. At least I have my daily interaction with Frank the mailman.
I’ve gotten sixteen chapters broken into scenes so far. I really have to figure out the proper rhythm of my story from there. I’ve got the beginning and the middle, but I don’t know about the end. I don’t know what the conflict is. I’ll figure it out. Maybe i can bounce ideas off of people and see what sticks.
Anyway, I’m headed for bed. Take your meds, folks.
Postmark Wonder-Land 