12:06 a.m. - 2012-08-23
short story
So... I've started writing-- just a short story, fictional, but if you want to write the Great American Novel, you got to start somewhere, right?
It's about a woman who pushes her husband off a cliff and never gets caught ... ever.
A. actually helped me brainstorm the plot a couple of days ago, which is super-cool because a) she had great ideas, and b) to my surprise I can really talk about writing with her -- something I didn't expect from a non-writer. She gets cooler every day.
My morning was great because I snuck A. in last night after the kids went to bed and snuck her out before they woke up so... I was happy.
And then I spent the afternoon interacting with/hearing about Matt and started having suicide fantasies. I don't know why I do that. I guess because I miss him, and what we had, and I hate his rejection of me. It makes me hate myself, and want to shoot myself just so I could stop being me.
It makes me feel like too much of a loser to write.
But I wrote anyway tonight. Again. Third day in a row?
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