I keep thinking of all the different lives I’ve led.
About the Venn diagram between my rehab friends and writing friends, the subtle but distinct overlap.
Today, I bought some triple cream brie, some hot cheddar, and some chorizo. I bought a bottle of sangria soda, too. Now all I need is some tinned octopus.
I’ve been shocking everyone by going to meetings. Shocking myself, too.
I suppose I do things just to shock people, especially when they think they might know me and how I move through the world.
I finally bought a pair of walking shoes I can simply slip on that have good, strong soles. Sometimes I get tired of lacing up my tennis shoes. I figure they’re a good investment. My ersatz kid sister likes to go on little adventures, sprinkled throughout the day. I don’t blame her, I get restless too.
She’s planning on napping all day and I’m planning on napping and tearing through The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, as soon as I shower and wash my hair. Tonight I’m making dinner again, I got the potatoes in advance and kosher salt, as a sense of security.
Que sera, sera.
Nightingale 
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