Yesterday felt like endings and new beginnings. And stuff. Most importantly . . . stuff.
After "work" at TJ Maxx, where I casually informed the manager that I would like to quit, I went to Starbucks and finally continued the actual writing of part eight. Seems to be going well, even though I was working from only a partial outline. I just couldn't wait any longer.
And, folks, it felt good, yes it did, yes it did.
Yesterday also had me driving around listening to very loud music. I pulled out The Crow soundtrack and, later, Morrissey's Your Arsenal.
Now I have to go make the Father's Day rounds before going back to that miserable giant shitbox called TJ Maxx. Au revoir.