Well, yet another rewrite on this unforgettable story. I don't know why I feel the need to do this at this time of year. My whole life is crashing, my books are going to arrive late in the New Year, even though I promised I would start reading on the 2nd of January. Work is work, so much crazy stupidity that I have devised the attitude that I will not make myself too comfortable in there. I don't have any single personal effect whatsoever, apart from my Stevie Wonder CD and that's it.
With any luck, I shall be wrapping my presents tonight, and buying the very last one tomorrow morning or tonight, depends on my mood.
How is my life these days? You can tell it's hazy when I keep obsessing about a darn story, as if some publisher is going to pass by my site, and say, good job, Anita. Fuck!
It is the season to be jolly, not sarcastic.
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