Untitled 15: Flotsam/Jetsam

It’s hard to write when nothing literally comes to mind.

At the same time it’s also hard to write when everything comes to mind.

Nothing seems to stick.

Nothing seems to shut up and let me concentrate.


I’m finally baking the bread that I’ve threatened to make for the past month.  Strangely enough, I seem to have made enough dough for three loaves.  We’ll see how it turns out.  What I can tell you is that it smells pretty fantastic from where I’m sitting.  It’s that bakery, fresh-baked bread that makes you turn your head when you pas by the bakery.  It makes your mouth water just thinking of the goodness of freshly baked bread.

Or maybe it’s just me.


My husband is finally on his summer break.  He seems to have finally gotten the hang of the new medication.  Or maybe he’s just not telling me.  But I can tell.  He seems better.  He’s sleeping through the night and he doesn’t have that broken, haunted look that he had two weeks ago.

I’ll ask him when he gets home how he’s really doing.  He can’t lie to me.  I always seem to know when he’s not telling the truth.  It all depends whether I feel like calling him out on it.


I’m thinking of restarting my summer gaming league.  But hopefully, I can get a better handle on it.  There’s not a lot of games for twelve people.  We’ll see. I’m leaning toward yes.


A former coworker of mine died over the weekend.  It’s been such a shock to all of us.  We saw her just a month ago when she stopped by to visit.  She looked so good.  So happy.  So fucking healthy.  But she battled several ailments throughout her life.  I suppose one of them finally got to her.



I don’t mean to end on a down note.


2 thoughts on “Untitled 15: Flotsam/Jetsam

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