You'll never guess where I am right now.
My physical landscape is not the point. [I'm actually sitting on some bun-chilling cement, overlooking a parking lot.]
It's my status that matters. I'm ALONE.
Claire is dancing in the building I'm leaning against right now. And John took both Littles home to get the pizza made. Leaving me here. ALONE.
This is supposed to be book-writing time for me. 45 minutes a week isn't much, but it's more than I was able to give myself between home work and work work. But I forgot my pen and there's a fly that keeps landing on my leg and I wanted to check my email and then there was a cool link on Facebook I had to follow and then I decided to write about being alone rather than trying to figure out where my characters are going from here.
And in one minute the dance class is over so I am closing my computer but I hope to be sitting here next week. Alone. [John willing, of course]
I don't care how cold my butt gets.
