I haven’t even taken any new pictures lately. My folks celebrated 56 years yesterday. “That’s longer than I’ve been alive,” I told them. This photo is about 1982, I think. Sorry my Mom looks like she’s in pain. This is the house I grew up in and I looked it up on Zillow a couple of weeks ago and the yard looked mostly the same and there was this entry table that my Dad made that was still there. The orange carpet is gone.
I read this story online about this kid who had a streaming music service and somehow someone had hacked it and was messing with his playlists. I didn’t understand most of what his problem was about but he ended up changing his password so the person couldn’t make changes to the app, but the person was still logged in with their device.
In order to get this person to log out he started picking terrible music and you know what he picked? Bon Jovi.
That was the best he could do?
It’s a good thing I wasn’t the hacker.
I am fried, fried, fried. Writing book #2 is killing me. I’m going to call this the first draft. It’s spectacularly terrible and if I die tomorrow you can’t look at it. I changed course a couple of times in the middle and things need to be fixed. I am a very linear thinker/writer and it drives me nuts when things in the beginning don’t match the end.
I’ve got a month to whip it into shape for the beta readers. Wish me luck.
