Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow. It’s probably not a good idea to put something out, over the internet, when one is in a foul mood. Then again, being in a bad mood makes me not care.*
It’s hot and humid, and I’m tired of it. Yes, I know the sun rises a little later, sets a bit earlier, and we’re losing precious minutes of daylight. And so many will disagree with me when I say, “bring on the cool days!” I want my cold feet to need socks. I want to hold a steaming mug of tea up to my face. I want cold air to rush in through the windows. But for now, it’s still uncomfortable. I’m thankful for central air conditioning, but I’m just tired of running it. Bleh.
My début novel, “Chocolate for Breakfast,” has been out for a month, and the roller coaster ride continues. After thirty days, most of the friends and family who were going to download my book have done so. Many of them have sent messages telling me the book was good (“I couldn’t put it down,” “I didn’t want it to end,” and “I can’t wait for your next book!”) To the ones who read it and haven’t said anything to me about it: thank you. I was hoping that, if you didn’t like it, you’d just stay silent, so thank you for doing that! I do want to write my second book, tentatively titled “The Reunion.” But I feel like I’m spending my entire day marketing this one, trying to sell it to people who have no idea who I am. Don’t get me wrong, I knew it would be like this, but still.
Last month I posted about a former co-worker who was severely beaten by her husband, who then killed himself. Tragic and senseless. She has not recovered, and, a month later, she may never recover. And this is overwhelmingly sad to me. My friend was a loud and brassy woman with a heart of gold who adored her two grown children. She should be here to enjoy every moment.
*But I can’t end a blog this way. There are small moments in each day. I ate lunch with my sister today, where we felt a breeze by the water. Afterwards, we watched folks kayaking around Wickford Cove. A big black dog looked me in the eye and wagged his tail, and a little girl in a sparkly dress marveled at a tiny bird.