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Slices of my recent life

Details from the past week while I tried not to get overwhelmed by how difficult and weird the news has been:

Monday, Nov. 27: I wrote a line of possible dialogue. "Exaggerating! It's almost like lying!"

Tuesday, Nov. 28: One way I amused myself was think about Star Wars and decide there could be a droid designated OMG-1337.

Wednesday, Nov. 29: An often-fun TV show did what it hadn't done for me before: it made me cry. I'm fond of the "Arrowverse" shows on The CW: Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl and DC's Legends of Tomorrow. I've watched Arrow since its second season (that was still one hell of a high-stakes season finale) and the other three since their inception. For the second year in a row, all four shows did a crossover, the same story told over one episode each from all four shows. Without going into detail, a Major Event in the fourth episode hit me hard. I enjoy these shows, but I don't usually cry because of them. Well done, shows.

Also earlier on Wednesday, I woke up from a dream that had claimed that, for some reason, James Bond was really based in Southern Oregon. Wait: Bruce Campbell lives in Jacksonville; you don't think—

Thursday, Nov. 30: For dinner I treat myself to a blue cheese hamburger at a Woodstock Blvd. restaurant called Dick's Primal Burger. It's messy: I even get sauce on the tip of my nose. Early the next morning I realize I hadn't washed my face all that well the night before and thought If I'd been living with a dog, the dog would have been very interested in my face.

(My breakfast that morning was a waffle at a new vegan café near my neighborhood called A Little Nectar. It was good, too, in its own way. Plus I got the bonus of a customer bringing adorable puppies to the café.)

Also Thursday: I quickly wrote a poem. I took some time to figure out a title for it. I briefly but seriously considered titling it with the shrug emoji. " ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ " Like that.

Saturday, Dec. 2: I carefully finished a book. A few weeks ago I'd borrowed Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey from the library, and quickly noticed some pages were loose. I'd hold it slightly cracked open instead of all the way open while reading it. Still being careful, I put a sticky note on the cover about its loose pages, headed to the central branch of the library, and directly handed it off to a library employee asking if it could be sent for repairs. I don't want to break books.

That's not all, but I don't have to share everything. *nods*