For once, I’ve been writing. Sometimes I don’t realize how easy it is to write nonfiction, and how difficult it is to create something out of nothing.
I only have to look back a few days for material for whatever nonfiction piece I’ve been writing. X called me: she’s breaking up with the boyfriend who owes her money and sounds like a creep. Of course, this is just the side of the story that she gives now that they’re in a rough spot. Nevertheless, I can’t help worrying that when she returns to Iowa, she’s going to somehow get physically hurt. It doesn’t help that she has no friends there this year.
We went to Zuma beach on Wednesday. She’s not a good driver. For one, when she tries to merge, she spends way too long looking in the sideview mirror while accelerating. Normal people take a quick look in the mirror and then look straight ahead as they merge. Do you know what this means? It means that if the car in front of us hit the brakes while she’s accelerating to merge, we’d be dead.