Crooked Finger (crookedfingers) wrote,
Crooked Finger

  • Mood:

fake fire

It is in the death flow 9:40 AM Thursday morning here in the Wild West Michigan. I am down in the lower level writing on my lap top because I am downloading a video I made this morning into my BookTube channel.

It has been a normal morning for me thus far. I got up this morning around 6:08 AM. When I got up I found my wife in our living room reading her Bible. I made us a pot of oatmeal for breakfast. I ate my oatmeal messing with our main computer. After fooling around with our main computer I wrote in my paper diary.

Carol left for a four hour class at the hospital around 7:50 AM. I read and then dozed for awhile in the living room. So has gone by my morning. Not much else to report.

This afternoon Carol and I will go grocery shopping. Around 2 o'clock PM today a fellow is coming over to look at our fireplace. Carol bought a fake wood fire set-up for our fireplace. The fire will be fed by natural gas into fake logs into our fireplace. I have had visions of our house going up in flames or me dying from natural gas fumes. The whole thing makes me sick! I do not know why Carol wants a fake fire in our fireplace? It is so middle class and ugly! Why not have a natural wood burning fireplace? I personally refuse to be a part of it all. I refuse to conform to the standards of middle class death existence.

Last night Carol was gone all evening attending a presentation on human trafficking for education credits for work. I read, "An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir Of Moods And Madness" by Kay Redfield Jamison while she was gone and then sat in the dark. Carol got home around 9:30 AM and went to bed around 10 o'clock PM. I stayed up and read till 11 o'clock PM and then went to bed. Now it is another day to wait for It to happen. It has been raining continually since yesterday evening. It is a cold rainy dark gray ugly day here by Lake Michigan.

I have been reading, "Alibis: Essays On Elsewhere" by Andre Aciman while down here in the lower level.

I will close to feel wasted. There is no way out. Trapped.

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