About 3 hours ago I was doing something else and I ended up here writing.

I’ve indulged in enough Corona over the years, with and without grenadine to not be in a panic at the moment. For the record, Corona with grenadine is terrible don’t do that to yourself.

My first writing was to a former friend. I didn’t expect that would happen, but I don’t expect a lot of things these days…except that the unexpected will happen. A couple moments ago she responded, in her never ending way and now I am going to have to figure out a way to explain to Daddy that’s not a thing.

I tried, but not unlike August, at the end of the day it costs me nothing to allow someone a small ‘victory’. I could dig in and prove my point but is it worth the energy when Captain Trips is out here on the street making Stephen King look like Nostradamus? The simple answer is no, but the more complicated one is that some of these things DO matter and it is on me to lower their relevance to my life.

August was simpler, today I will make it be simple.

The note to the girl, turned into a note to the landlord, which turned into a note to myself and welp here I am.

Corona is doing the most right now. I worry about my friends who rely on their incomes from service and hospitality. I am grateful that even though the current gig is annoying my greatness at the moment it exists, and it keeps me in the Corona free zone. I miss my guy something awful and I worry about his trip here next month. Torn between needing him, and wanting to delay my needs because….yt people won’t wash their ass.

I’ve delayed packing for about as long as I can, except even transparent even this entry is a delay of sorts. I chuckle at my inability in 2020 to stop using the double space after a period and hold memories closer.

All I can say in this moment is that not unlike August it was my choice. I can live with both those choices because it grants peace of mind in ways I could not. I will try not to beat myself up over my inability to move things, all objects aren’t meant to be moved after all.

I get to talk to him in a few short moments and in his way, he helps me see all that is right with the world.

Speaking of seeing he has glasses now. I can still hear his roaring laugh at the word spiffy. Being in the location I am means that while the rest of the world is worried about ‘Rona, I can still get toilet paper and bread for the moment and wait for this thing to thin out the Republican leadership if that is our fortune.

It will be pretty ugly a month from now, but that’s not my cross to carry. I have to carry wood today that involves shedding more of the past that I thought I wanted to. Literally and figuratively.

Today I am a white haired woman prepping herself for her journey West to live with The Man in Black. My story ends differently than Nadine Cross. My womb is barren and I don’t ever plan to flee from the man who visits me in my dreams.