I am an introverted mother of a gregarious 3-year old. I love to read mostly fiction but I pretty much appreciate a wide variety of books. I have been keeping an online blog as well as a traditional journal and I alternate between the two depending on my mood.
I want to be a writer, But the words escape me. I even considered attending creative writing classes Or buying creative writing for dummies.
Survival requires adaptation. So states Darwin's theory of evolution. This then marks my feeble attempts at conforming to rules established long before I came here.
I have long been used to goodbyes. Or so I thought. And yet I was surprised to feel more than a pinch of sadness when the person I consider as my second father has left for an extended holiday.