in not so many words

On Wednesday I am suppose to read to my fiction writing class the project that I've been working on throughout the six weeks. I wonder if they'll be able to tell that I started working on it yesterday, not because I'm a slacker with writing, but because I am afraid and absolutely clueless as to how to write fiction, even after taking this class. I have yet to read anything I've written to the class thus far and one member said, "Well, I think everyone here is talented. We've heard everyone read and there is a lot of potential here." I wondered if he had forgotten little ole me sitting beside him and if I could have talent by association. We're also suppose to bring in food that is in some way related to the stories we're working on. My story, as of now, is about a woman who miscarries in her 28th week of pregnancy. Not only does Hallmark not make a card for that, Betty Crocker doesn't make a cake. Mmmmm, I'm thinking pumpkin bread, just cause.

In other news, the surprise package I wrote about a few days ago was a mess up on the part of the disgruntled postal workers down the street. I don't know about them being so frustrated that they shoot each other, but I certainly wasn't pleased that the day after I picked up a package they dated and mail me a notice saying they attempted to deliver that same package and missed me. Mmmmmm, didn't know the USPS was into delivering phantom packages. Liars.

And the jinxing, yeah, I think I totally mailed that one in. Jinxing should be my middle name.

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