O, sweet hell, I smell like Sylvia Plath.

[Sugar Smack]

That was my first impression this morning. This is just a snapshot.

Then came the combined soothing sounds of my cat going down on her water bowl and the rain. She jumped up with her favorite toy, a plastic bracelet with "POOL PASS" etched on it. I kept trying to hang it on her ear, or toss it as though we were at the State Fair. My cat doesn't look at stuff, she regards it, as though she's about to engage.

My copy of The Handmaid's Tale was splattered on the floor. Apparently suffered from a kick due some weird, hellish concentration camp dreams.

I can learn to ignore it if I start up the coffeepot and put in the unusually expensive java Dad bought me two days ago.

Now I know what "age" is. I saw what I was wearing in the mirror this morning. My body's still little and lithe, but my entire head looks like a Hooraw's nest. There may indeed still be hope.

[Sugar Smack]

1. BTW, I shower every day,

but my post is a bit rambly .:D

[Cleveland Rocks]

2. That's OK, sugar

not as if rambling is unknown to the Internet. :)

[WCGreen]

3. Rambling is a good thing in fiction...

It tells us so much more about the character.

[bridgit]

4. Before someone here put me on ignore for the audacity of having an opinion...

that very same person said once; that my stuff reminded them of Sylvia Plath :shrug: ----------> :hi: :hi: :hi: :hug:

“I felt like a race horse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like a date on a tombstone.” ~ Sylvia

[WCGreen]

5. I named one of my cats after Sylvia Plath...