I have spent the evening producing a rough draft of my next true crime column. I have about 1500 words. I will spend my lunch hour editing it and will do my best to have it in to my editor by Tuesday night.
This one has been hard to write. It is hard to be objective about this one, so I am not sure if there is any point in trying. When I think about what the family has gone through since the loved one went missing, and how someone frigging knows something about what happened, and doesn't come forward, it makes me angry.
Today being Monday, it was a challenge to get up. My body told me to stay in bed, but my bank account told me to get up, so I heeded it for a change and got up.
People at work teased me about my hair cut. I told them that I was tired of strange women running their fingers through it at all hours of the day and night. That I was tired of getting strange knocks at the door at 3am from women wanting just 30 seconds to run their fingers through my hair. How I couldn't walk down the aisle of the local Superstore without persistent harassment. I had to call an end to it, and my trip to Helen's Barber Shop on Kempt Road Friday morning was my response. It will work until it grows back in a couple of months.
On that gentle note, I think I will call it a night.
See you tomorrow.
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