Bring Me Peanut Butter Pretzels

We have to add peanut butter pretzels to the ever growing list of things that I like that don’t like me.

I love them so much but they don’t sit quite right — not really indigestion. It’s like even if I carefully count them out and eat say, 5, my body feels like I ate half a bag and I feel bad for the rest of the day.

I think this is the last bag.

Other foods that I like that don’t like me: scallops (oof, the indigestion) and most of the time sparkling and white wines give me a gruesome headache.

And in even more tragic news: I gave up on the project of forever. This is a writing project very near and dear to my heart that I have picked up and set aside a number of times over the years.

I tried many, many things. I used it as a project for a class. I added characters. I tried splitting it into shorter interconnected stories. I can’t figure out how to make it work. I realized that it was making me hate writing.

It’s always funny to read articles (listen to podcasts, whatever) that talk about writer’s block. It’s not a block. I can write forever. But a story isn’t just typing. The parts need to fit together. And it seems weird since you’re making it all up — figure out a way to fit it together.

But I can’t. So. It’s put away and I’m working on some short stories for fun and in the fall I plan to write another romance.

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