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May 7, 2012
I hope I start to enjoy living alone again. Sometimes it sneaks up on me--the joy of flavored decaf, D. curled up in a furry feline ball on a chair next to me, and Pandora on low, surprising me with Rolling Stones and Tchaikovsky. I have hours to myself to write as I like, read as I like. Why is company necessary when I have writing to do, with coffee and music as inspiration? Never mind my robust characters--R. and Bobby and the new kid C., and the love triangle with B. intrigued with C. because she uses a wheelchair.