I haven’t had much to write about Ex recently. Since that last little round of drama a month or so ago he seems to have dropped entirely off the face of the planet. I would be lying if I told you it hasn’t been nice. It’s been quiet and drama-free.
To read the rest: clicky, clicky. →
Here is what happened over the weekend:
Mr. Tall, Smart, and Wickedly Witty was early on Friday. He arrived “with bells on.”
We were still fawning over my daughter’s BFF who was at our house getting ready for her prom. We were the paparazzi launching her special night. MTSWW sat on the sofa, waiting patiently, observing the hubbub. Mrs. Sadie Snufflemuffin took a shine to him. (That’s a thing, right? When your dog—or cat—likes a fella?) To read the rest: clicky, clicky. →
For the record: I DO NOT HAVE A DATE TONIGHT.
I’m just having dinner. With a friend. (Yes, it’s MTSWW.)
I’m NOT wearing a little black dress.
Also, Mother Nature may have something to say about all this. A storm of Biblical Proportions is headed toward the DC metro area tonight.
(I might surreptitiously tweet a word or two.)
I am writing my own happy ending. I am finally ready to admit that God is helping. A lot.
Writing is what I do—what I have nearly always done. I write on scraps of envelope on the table beside my bed. I write with short stubs of pencil on receipts stuffed into my wallet. I write in notes on my cell phone, and in encrypted files which are forever gone once the passwords die with me. To read the rest: clicky, clicky. →