Seabiscuit is going to be smashed into glue with this one. I'm just writing because I had a conversation with an unnamed person who, without ever reading my original "questions" blog, repeated with frightening precision, my main concerns and elaborated on said concerns in a way that reminded me how much we left that carcass to rot in the back of my mind. I know you all don't want to deal with this anymore, and not that there's anything to deal with, but I just wanted to put it on here again that my mind is not stilled nor my fingers halted with anything we can do here, which is just talk and get tired of each other. Why am I writing, then? Just to point out I'm not the only crazy out here wondering about things. Sorry I'm feeling vague and awkward again.
Oh, Lynnea, are you planning to go to Wakefield's wedding? If so... let me know. You could very much help me out with an interesting thought Adam tossed my way... and that's all I have to say about that. But there will be dancing, and I have to use every advantage I can get to... use my advantages (just imagine me mumbling the rest of this). So, since I've pretty much used ellipses to death and really wasted your time, I'm going to go now, having completed my mission in life. Wait, I haven't written the great American novel. Completed half of my mission in life. Toodaloo.