They told me no LASIK, today. Which was really disappointing, and yet... I wasn't as upset as I have been when set-back before. I don't know what this means, maybe nothing. Or maybe a sign that I am on the right path and just that very fact is enough to reduce the outward displays of my inner anxiety. That would be cool.
My writing time was spent talking, today. That happens. It was all writing-related talk, but no actual writing occurred. NO WRITING.
That, I am not ok with. It's this weird space and the constant inquisitive presence of my parents, I hope. What are you doing, when will you be back, etc. For this reason, I am going to write for a bit somewhere downtown before I come all the way home from work tomorrow.
I did however, get a walk in and some Spanish. And as Meatloaf told me when I was a little child: 2 out of 3 ain't bad.