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Though I hadn’t slept much through the night, I awoke the next morning with a surprising amount of energy. The adrenaline that pumped through my system as I showered and did my make-up kept me from feeling tired, as I knew I should be. I was almost thankful for the train wreck that my mother’s wedding was sure to be, just because it was a distraction from the aching pain that ripped through me every time I recalled my conversation with Orlando. Who knew such a disaster could be a good thing?

I was just dumping the last of my coffee down the drain and making sure I had everything I needed in my new purse, when Olivia strode into my flat as though she owned it.

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Well, it’s been about 2 weeks since I sprained my hand, and I’ve since been in a minor car accident that took me off work for 4 days, and have had quite a few of my regular days off as well. So why hasn’t there been an update?

Two words: Writers’ Block.

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Hello everyone, I know it has been awhile!

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Olivia and I managed to compromise on my hair, allowing me to keep part of it down, while the rest was up on my head. She showed me how to section off the top, twist it once to create a small bubble on top of my head, and pin it, with the rest hanging down. It was elegant and simple, yet it suited a wedding, and it went with my dress. I even allowed her to trim the ends so it didn’t look so dead.

I practiced putting on the make-up every day leading up to the wedding. My first few tries were disastrous, and I ended up resembling the circus clown I was afraid of, but after that, with some tips from Olivia, I seemed to get the hang of it. When I finally got it to the point where I wouldn’t be embarrassed to wear it in public, I just stared at myself in my new bathroom mirror (Olivia’s gift to me), unable to believe that I actually wanted to see what I looked like. I couldn’t keep my gaze from the twisted flesh on the left side of my neck, but even that didn’t seem to bother me as much as it used to.

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I just realized that I’m almost 2 weeks late with the next Scars update, and I wanted to apologize for that. I’ve been working like crazy (as per usual lately), and time has been literally flying by. I thought I posted last Saturday, but I guess I didn’t. It’s crazy how I lose track of time like this!

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I wasn’t surprised to see Olivia on my doorstep at quarter to twelve the next morning. She was chronically early, and of course, since I’d been dreading this little outing, she wouldn’t disappoint me by being late. I sighed as I let her inside.

“I have a game plan for us,” she announced, striding into my living room as I dumped the remainder of my coffee down the drain. I didn’t figure she’d give me enough time to finish it.

“I bet you do,” I said, grabbing my purse off the kitchen counter. “You’re probably planning to drag me all over Hell’s creation today, aren’t you?”

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Olivia’s comments stuck with me over the next few weeks as I dove into editing my new book. Georgie and I had many conversations about my manuscript, and the changes she wanted me to make, and by the end of two weeks of editing, we had the next draft ready to submit to her superiors. I was also swamped with revisions on the After Midnight script, so I had very little time to dwell on anything personal. I went to bed every night almost cross-eyed with exhaustion, and had no trouble going to sleep.

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I know I’ve been keeping everyone waiting for the next Scars update, which should be ready by Saturday, if all goes well, so in the interim, I’m going to post a little ‘experiment’ that I wrote not too long ago. It’s a one-off for now, and I don’t really have any plans to continue it, mainly because I barely have enough time to keep Peyton and her world going, but I wanted to throw it out there and see what everyone thinks.

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Hey everyone! I just got home after being stuck in Waterloo (about an hour away) for 2 days because of the snow. I’ve been working there, as I wrote before, and I was there Friday for a shift. We got hit with a snow storm Friday afternoon/evening, so I opted to stay at a friend’s house instead of trying to fight my way home. I was due at work in Waterloo again for Saturday morning at 8:30 anyway, so it was just easier to stay.

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The next few days were very similar to the first after my hospital stay. No matter what I did, the anger I felt still simmered just beneath the surface, and I couldn’t help but let it out in any way possible. I snapped at a telemarketer, I screamed at Sherman over stupid things, I even refused to tip the grocery delivery boy because he was five minutes later than expected. The rage just ate at me, and I felt like there was nothing I could do to stop it.

When Olivia showed up on my doorstep, I didn’t know what to think. I’d had a few rather nasty conversations with her that really shouldn’t have happened, so she knew something was up, but I refused to tell her anything. Seeing her, especially when she so rarely made house calls to her clients, was shocking to say the least. And it wasn’t at all welcome.

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