Life amuses me so very much.

You know that bit where you have to rip something you like apart so it can be better? That’s where I am right now. I’m ripping the guts out of this novel. Some of it gets to stay. Whole sections don’t exist anymore. The rest are on notice for bad behavior. I might have added a bit here and there. There’s always something that sounds better.

I have a stack of paper next to my computer. It’s over 100 pages now. Since Sunday afternoon and I’m finishing them today. Come hell or high water, both of which are distinct possibilities so I don’t want to hear any contradictions. None.

Something I’ve realized in the last few days, I’m having fun. As difficult as plot and wording can be, as annoying as characters are to figure out, I’m having a lot of fun. I’m oddly content with my life. I’m glad all the horrible, world-ending things happened to me because it made me a stronger person. Plus, they sort of proved that the world doesn’t end when someone leaves. It feels like it. It hurts like hell when you put so much of yourself into something and it fails, but the world doesn’t end. You work through it. You get stronger.

After that, those silly little petty things amuse the shit out of you. Like on Friday when I went in to get my last pay stub and I find out that my ex-husband is still full of bitterness even though he’s “moved on” and I find myself giggling. He left me. I’m pretty sure he was cheating on me almost the whole time we were together, but I’m the one who was wrong. Maybe he’s trying to figure out why I wasn’t happy with him. I don’t know. I do know I’m happy now. My boyfriend is a good man despite his consistent protests and proclamations of his “assholeness.”

So, the world doesn’t end when bad things happen. I’ll keep plugging along. I’ll do what makes me happy because life is too short to be miserable.

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