Nothing *Much* to Say
1. What is your favorite thing about the fall season? I’m not sure; fall isn’t a favorite of mine. Those flaming fall colors are pretty though.
2. Do you have a favorite fall sport? Jumping into piles of leaves.
3. Are you mired in that back to school thing? I’m in between "not anymore" and "not yet". 
4. Are you ready for fall? No. I want to sunbathe more! I want to swim more!
Friday’s Feast 109:
Appetizer: (LOL!) Misheard lyrics: I can’t think of any offhand, but I used to rebel against a certain song, singing it this way instead: "I will survive. As long as I know how to fight…"
Soup: Worst movie: Hmm…I’m rather picky–most of the time. I’d probably name one of the movies my brother made me watch back when I was a little squirt: Chucky, IT…but thankfully I don’t remember those movies anymore.
Salad: I choose number 8: Effervescently, Irene Gave Her Thanks.
Main Course: Most interesting news story: I heard something about a case of mistaken identity. The person in the hospitable turned out to be someone who’s family thought they had buried. Oo, sounds like something from CSI.
Dessert: Words to describe my wardrobe: eclectic–that seems the best word. 
I don’t have anything to say. I was feeling good this morning, but Imah got to me. I’m walking on an emotional tightrope right now. Yesterday, some of my co-workers asked me "Is anything wrong?" "Are you ok?" (When was the last time someone asked me that? I’m usually good at finding something to be cheerful about when I’m feeling down. But this time, my moodiness slipped through. That’s what I get for drinking coffee so late and thus getting hardly any sleep–the night before work! Argh.)
All that to say, Imah knows how to get at me. I’ve got to learn how to control myself in regard to her pecking. I don’t think anyone else can make me lose my temper–some can annoy me (certain times of the month, that’s very easy to do), but otherwise I have gotten control over my temper. (I used to be a tantrum queen.) Now…heh heh…I loose my anger (and other negative emotions) in my stories (hence the vengeful, unscrupulous, dagger-wielding Evelyn, for example–LOL!).
See, back in the hard times, I would use my writing as a type of therapy. I don’t (think I) do that now. My pre-planned goals get in the way. But I love my writing so much, it still helps.
Ha! I love when I say I have nothing to say and then I ramble on. Maybe I’m using this post as therapy. It seems to be working…but I still feel the tightrope under my feet. If Imah nags at me again…(doom music). For now, I will rely on my inherent cheerfulness aided by the plentiful cups of coffee I had. *hums a cheerful tune and does a silly dance*
Now, I must go. My day is just beginning. Another late night last night–decided against setting my alarm–got up shortly before noon. Shocking.
Shabbat Shalom!
02:20 PM
Chronicled by: Her Grace, Duchess of the Digital Quill
