1:01 a.m. 27 September 2020

drinking red wine.

Couldn't sleep, am itchy, surely something is eating me in my bed, something invisible. I know because I checked, so drop it.


MISSION PERCEIVED IMPOSSIBLE

Write

Project

Write whatever comes out of my head for 30 days, so as you've signed up for this, I do not apologise but merely wish you well, and have other advice should you need it.

Things not to do:

Do not go into haunted houses or collect haunted objects, see Spooked, the podcast, visual unavailable, look it up yourself.

Do not date or marry people who tell you the truth about who they are then ignore it because you think maybe it's not really true, it is true, it will bite you hard in the ass later.

Also beware of any review in which a person describes themselves as someone who you will either love or hate, because you will, one or the other, and if you have half a brain, you will hate them since there is ample evidence in the admission for your justified dread; even if you love them, when you realise the hubris, you will hate them. Don't cry to me, you have no one to blame but yourself.

People tell exactly who they are in the first two minutes of acquaintance. Pay attention.

Things I'm tired of:

The news, news about whether the news is the news, Netflix, Q anon, the US president, people who refuse to wear masks and liars, those who claim to love a risen saviour and give no shits for the poor, the oppressed, the hungry. Please grow up.

The GOOD news

Jane Eyre is a great read.

Reading is underrated. Try it.


Schitt's Creek, the show I couldn't get into, is a favourite now.

Try paint-by number. Look for a testimony from a dear friend in later posts.

Now boil that crappy TraderJoe's balsamic vinegar you bought down to a thick syrup, adding a tablespoon of raw sugar or honey, then use it to drizzle over fresh cut pears, arugula, sharp cheese and walnuts, together or separately. You're welcome.

While in the woods yesterday I likely got chiggers and now am under assault, because you know, the more you scratch the more you itch. Ugh. Sweet dreams.