Time Enough For Myself

You know that whole think I said yesterday about doing some writing?  Um . . . yeah.  Didn’t happen.  I was out of the apartment by nine in the morning, and didn’t return until thirteen hours later.  That’s ten PM, or twenty-two hours if you’re flying by Salem time.  The good thing is only three of that was spent on the road, so it was ten hours of hanging out and spending money.

Oh, yes:  there was money spent.  But it was for a good time.

I got to hang out with someone I know from Facebook.  She lives southeast of Baltimore, and we hung out, with her husband and kid, at a nearby mall.  It was a good time.  Got a Panera lobster roll (do no recommend it; I love their stuff, but this was kinda nasty), she bought shoes (on my recommendations), we tried on a bought clothes (I got two skirts, a casual dress, and a sun dress).  Oh, and we got our nails done, but it was a really shitty job:  one of my toes was clipped and bleed, the side of my left foot seems to have lost skin, and I feel like I cheated on my regular manicurist.

If you ever wondered what I look like getting a mani/pedi, there's no need to wonder any more.

If you ever wondered what I look like getting a mani/pedi, you can stop.

It was a great time, and a good way to help someone spend Mother’s Day.  I even got a “Happy Mother’s Day,” because I look like a mother?  I am and I ain’t:  that’s a tough one to get around, and I don’t try.  One could say that since I’ve never blasted a kid out from nether reasons I’m not, but I’ve helped raise my daughter and been there for her when it was needed, so–maybe?  Not for me to say.

I didn’t think much about my other kids, however.  Well, I did a little, but my mind was off somewhere else for most of the day yesterday.  I’m back to thinking about them a lot these days, but I’m going over so much that I’ve already went over, that I’m looking for insights into new scenes.  Now that I have a better sense of what’s happening in the B Levels–from a personal perspective for them, that is–ideas are popping into my head, and I’m thinking over the good and the bad, keeping what I like and discarding all the rest–or at least moving the old aside and keeping it somewhere close in case I like it for something else.

I did wake up this morning with an almost clear picture of what happens in the next scene after the one which I’m currently writing, the one titled Remembering Memory.  Annie wants to visit Deanna, ’cause she was the first person they saw on the first day of school as A Levels, so why not again?  Do you think they’ll have a quiet discussion over tea?  It’s quite possible that’s exactly what’s going to happen.  If this morning is any indication, I knew right where that vision is going . . .

I hope to get a few hundred words written tonight–after I have more electrolysis done this evening.  From the sublime to the masochistic, wouldn’t you say?  Anyway, if I don’t write just something to night, I think I’ll go nuts.

And it helps get my mind off the fact that my face is on fire.