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I'd sit the table with you, if it helps. And I'm sure everyone else here would, too.Hey gang, a month back, right after my birthday, my birth mother died. I hadn't seen her since (whenever it was) when Jo and I visited. Things went to shit on that one because she wanted me to visit my birth father's grave and tell him I forgive him. It became a shouting match, and Jo packed up the car and made me leave. That was before Donnie, so she had never met him. Why would she even want to? She didn't. He was white, Jo's white, my adoptive family is white, and while she was alive, she hated them all.
Dad and I flew down for the funeral; we were almost the only ones who attended it. I paid for the thing. But we didn't even go to the interment, because I didn't want to. She gave me life but didn't protect me from my father. Even so, I've been depressed because now, like my father, I can't fix what's broken between us. If there is an afterlife, maybe I can have the opportunity to forgive them. Perhaps they can try to make it better.
Anyway, I've had some rough weeks with writing since then. I've written only dark stuff I can't publish here.
I'm about to drink my third cup of caffeinated tea. Does anyone want to join me? Irish Cream, without adding cream or any sweet stuff.
I'd sit the table with you, if it helps. And I'm sure everyone else here would, too.
He left the bright red bags sitting out on a shelf at Meijer, so he had to expect that.So does Tim know you pinched his coffee?
Had breakfast out with a friend this morning. Conversation was positive and lively, but the coffee... ugh. You know, the kind of stuff so thick and bitter you have to rush home to clean your mouth out with a paint scraper.
I made the coffee weak. I'll use more grounds tomorrow and give it a better test.Timmy's coffee (and here I draw a veil over my face to hid my identify so I don't get nationalistic hatemail) is about average. Personally, if I have to go for a mass-market brand, I'll buy McDonald's dark roast.
Working on a Sci-fi novel
I suggest a visit to an octogenarian. This may not be dementia, but it is truly demented.I had a strong (and obviously memorable) dream last night about participating in an orgy featuring the Seinfeld characters.