It's crazy like that.
She would never tell you this, well not unless alcohol was involved, but she is a published poet. Prize winning too. Yesterday, while going through that box on her closet shelf as part of the new year's purge, she came across her old poems. I have to say, some of them are pretty good. Again, she would never tell you that.
She is wondering what to do now, what with being an orphan after fifteen years of parents who were sick or dying or demented. (there were some free years in there though - she's not Florence Nightingale!)
Stay or move? Where to move? What about work? What about...everything?
She just needs to calm the heck down.
And wait.
She's not real good at that, I can tell you.
You have redeemed the phrase "talking through your hat." From this moment forward, it's a good thing!
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