And everyone who made a bid got a little bit. In return, I took a quarter of what you offered.
Seems like an interesting deal.
Seriously contemplated not going to class.
Decided I better.
I went to class, and I now really wish I hadn't. We talked about the book I had only read half of (and it's at times like these I am so glad I'm a natural actor) but then the writing task was to write a thankyou letter to the parent of your opposite sex. So naturally I ended up crying, right in front of 6-near strangers. And explained that my Dad had had a stroke just two weeks ago. And that I was still quite emotional. And I read out what I'd written, which was pitiful.
I feel honoured that you allow me to actually know you, your thoughts and feelings, likes and dislikes, beliefs and disbeliefs, to the point where it seems odd to me that a child should not know their father almost as well as they know themselves.
It pretty much brought forward the fact that even through all the crying I've done, I'm not over it as much as I'd hoped. I thought of Dad at the rehabilitation centre and the thought of him not being who he was just crushed any lingering confidence and happiness I'd managed to build around myself.
I'm not a Daddy's girl, by the way... I get along just as well with my mother. We're a really close family. Mum's been so strong through all of this. I admire her intensely.
Anyway, I promised I'd be more cheerful didn't I? Plus, I'm making this all about me. How selfish.
After class I went to look for a periodical which has the first publication of the story I want to edit. I couldn't find it. Flinders Library should be renamed "Flinders Labyrinth". I never find what I want to in that Library - yet I'm fine with the State Library. I may just check the Adelaide Uni Library next. It might be easiest.
I'm visiting the dadda at St Margaret's.