This just in …

 
Yesterday, following my post:

After taking far too long to get back to it, I added 1,200 words to my remix_redux assignment, more than doubling the previous count. It’s now longer than the original story (what can I say? I just do that kind of thing), with two-thirds to three-quarters still to be done. The main thing is that I got moving.

I talked with my son just as he was about to go join his friends; they were to stay overnight at the Catholic Campus Ministry house, so they could all be together to get a very early start in the morning. A week in Jamaica. Neat.

I kept hoping my daughter would give me and/or her mother a call on her birthday — it’s been awhile since we spoke with her, and we miss her — but still no word. I should have sent her an e-mail message, but I didn’t think of it until too late.

Today (so far):

I live on one side of a converted duplex. I woke up to the sound of music and voices on the other side. The owner was being visited by his daughter, who — oh, yes — happens to be the former girlfriend that I still find so desirable but will never be able to trust again.

She still looks good. Really good.

I still can’t see myself ever trusting her.

So I think I’ll do some more writing.

This just in …

 
Yesterday, following my post:

After taking far too long to get back to it, I added 1,200 words to my remix_redux assignment, more than doubling the previous count. It’s now longer than the original story (what can I say? I just do that kind of thing), with two-thirds to three-quarters still to be done. The main thing is that I got moving.

I talked with my son just as he was about to go join his friends; they were to stay overnight at the Catholic Campus Ministry house, so they could all be together to get a very early start in the morning. A week in Jamaica. Neat.

I kept hoping my daughter would give me and/or her mother a call on her birthday — it’s been awhile since we spoke with her, and we miss her — but still no word. I should have sent her an e-mail message, but I didn’t think of it until too late.

Today (so far):

I live on one side of a converted duplex. I woke up to the sound of music and voices on the other side. The owner was being visited by his daughter, who — oh, yes — happens to be the former girlfriend that I still find so desirable but will never be able to trust again.

She still looks good. Really good.

I still can’t see myself ever trusting her.

So I think I’ll do some more writing.