Plus it ended badly, like a break-up. Or something. And now I don’t know what to do with myself. Shit. This is bad. I’ve never had to think about what to say here but I do now. And I have to post something. But not this awful drivel. I don’t come here to reflect.
The room is so quiet I can hear my cat breathe. I
do not anthropomorphize her but I am grateful to her. In the past, whatever room in the house I slept in, she slept there as well.
My blogs all need clean up, plus they need separating, and a reconsideration of their individual purposes. I’ll be busy doing that. Not publishing. Jesus. I feel like I’m send this from the morgue.