I didn’t have my pre-Christmas bout of the blues, but I think I’m having them now, just over lunch. Am I doing the right thing? I don’t know. About anything. I just don’t know.
I’ve got to get to the TSLA and get that off my plate.
We got the dog one of those nose leads. He hates it, but it cures every problem I have walking him, so we’re sticking with it. He’s such a sweetheart. The cats still hate him, though. A couple of the Butcher’s friends came over with their kid. She’s gone from speaking on or two words that only her parents can really understand to speaking whole clear sentences overnight it seems. And she told the new kitty, “You can jump into my arms and I’ll catch you.” The new kitty didn’t believe her, but I was impressed.
My mom and I went Christmas shopping for my dad. One of the things I hate about Christmas is that my dad won’t tell anyone what he wants and then he acts all hurt–and I think is genuinely hurt–when he doesn’t get anything he wants. So, at Christmas, my mom had a million presents to open and the rest of us had like one or two. And it hurt my dad’s feelings that she didn’t have a million presents for him. Which I felt bad about, but, really, it’s his own damn fault for not telling anyone what he might like.
He also repeatedly tried to talk me into writing “real” stories about “real” things. And I laughed him off, because it’s ridiculous. But everyone wants to be the boss of everyone. Never doubt that.
Anyway, my mom. We’re shopping for my dad and she’s talking about how people have run him down to her before and how she hates that and has decided those people have small, boring lives. “I get to have Brent Phillips,” she said. “My life is never dull.”
My reader finished up this draft of Ben & Sue and I think she has figured out what’s not working with the last 1/4. I’m really excited. It’s like, duh, finally, I feel like I have some idea of what to do to make it work for me.
Big changes are afoot, things I don’t feel comfortable talking about here. But I’m trying to handle them gracefully. I’m just scared. I have to make some decisions. And other people have to make some decisions. And I have to hope our decisions all line up.
Tiny Cat Pants 