And even more thanks for when ones that aren’t, reveal themselves as such, and move out of your life.
I’d been having some discomfort with the pens I’ve been using. They’re all one kind, but I did find one earlier that felt really good on the pages of my journal. I don’t know how it is for other writers, but that means a lot to me, since I write a lot of things by hand.
A past joy:
I watched some old news openings for local Baltimore TV stations earlier. They reminded me of a past joy: staying up late past my bedtime when I had one. Even if I was watching the news –and I always would, mostly for the weather and sports– I was up when I wasn’t supposed to be. That was always fun.