Which means my daily nighttime writing will be preempted by needing to hit my 1,667 daily word count to reach the 50,000 word goal by November 30. Be prepared to be enthralled (or at least pretend to be). Yesterday it was so weird to be back at work and kind of a relief too. Not one customer came in, which meant I had all day to rip and re-knit a glove and watch Netflix videos. I am so relieved that Mrs. Boss doesn't mind if I work on crafts or watch videos as long as I get my work done first. Good boss, good job. I felt like I hadn't been there in 6 months instead of 8 or 9 days. Tonight after supper I need to go over to Mom's apartment and see if I can't finish the cheerleader doll outfit she promised to the Brown County Women's Assn. raffle/fundraiser. They're buying it and the estate needs the money so I'd better get a move on. Fortunately it's nearly done and Mom gave me strict orders on how to finish it before she died. I wonder why people hesitate to use the word "die" these days. It isn't any harsher than any other word for when people cease to live. I actually like the finality and lack of equivocation in the word. Mom died; she didn't pass, she didn't go to sleep, and she sure as hell didn't buy a farm. Saying that she's dead doesn't make it any realer or any harder to deal with the fact that my mom is not around to call me every day and annoy me and love me and think that I'm the best daughter on two legs (which I know isn't true because I'm selfish and the world's worst nurse) but I'm still going to miss that. Once I'm convinced that she's really dead, that is. It still hasn't sunk in.
October 31--Salvatore Ferragamo, Platform Sandal. Trudy looked at the shoes the bride, her sister Mai had chosen and her jaw dropped. It wasn't bad enough that Mai had picked the most hideous, loathsome, itchy, frou-frou bridesmaids' dresses in the whole world. No, she had to pick shoes guaranteed to twist ankles on a good day. They were cork and leather accidents waiting to happen. "How...?" Trudy said, "how did you...?" Mai interrupted. "I know." She picked up a shoe and caressed it. "I couldn't believe it either when it saw them. All six colors of the dresses plus gold and white and they're only $137.50 a pair." Mai sighed. "Everyone can afford a bargain like that." Trudy sighed too, thinking of all the extra shifts she'd have to work at Fred's Fine Diner & Lube Shop to pay for shoes she thought would break her legs.
Okay, that's just nuts. It's dreary and gray and it's supposed to rain today. Ugh.