You’re writing your autobiography. What’s your opening sentence?
That was something my mom used to say. But after spending a year of high school there, I’m not so sure. It’s kind of flat, for one. And yes, the winters are harsh, but spring and fall are actually quite pleasant.
I know, I’ve strayed from the prompt. A little further than usual.
Sleep was crap, so it’s early. And going back in for more is out of the question. So it’s me and the treadmill!
Most of the turmoil that makes a good autobiography is in my own head. Yes, there was some non-consensual abuse, but I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore. So there’s that.
Perhaps I should climb back into the bed and do a reset. It helps sometimes?
Julie M Anderson 