So my love has gone back to Iowa City and I am still here, left with only delicious bruises to carry me through the next few months. It's surreal, coming back home and not seeing him after he's been here a week. It just makes me look forward to the day when we'll be together always. :)
Alright, enough of this goo.
In other news, I started writing for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writer's Month) which starts in November, and I have quite the plot started. I have the whole ending arc planned out, and it will be one gorgeous fucking mess. Everything goes sideways, main woman kills herself, main man #2 becomes a junkie, and main man #1 leaves it all behind and goes to California. The only problem is I'm having a hard time building up to this. Right now I'm just working on my plot graph so I can have an idea of where I'm going. Writing people with contented lives is much harder than writing people with misery and sadness in their lives. Riddle of the human mind, I suppose.
The last week has been a little insane for other reasons. My father-in-law is a part time police officer in Sloan and he rolled his squad car trying to get a license plate number for a drunk driver. He fractured a vertebrae and had a minor concussion, but that's it. Utterly mindblowing to me is the fact that he came out with only these injuries. Sure, he's going to be in the halo for a few months but he can walk and talk, while many cannot. Wow.
Alrright, this woman is going to bed.
