This will be short. I’m tired. In so many ways. I sat down and wrote some frankly erotic writing, using my imagination. It felt dann good to write, to create characters, to fantasize and to create a past that didn’t happen. But might have. I couldn’t bring myself to go upstairs, and try to sleep. I wonder when I last took Ibuprofen, but think a couple more now won’t hurt.
The back hurts, and causes the shoulder to hurt too. I think about the surgery recovery from three years ago and feel nostalgic about the whole time.
It’s late. I have new readers. I love you all for stopping by. Thanks.