So, last night, I paced, literally paced, the floor trying to convince myself not to write the really painful scene between my characters. I kept thinking up increasingly ludicrous possibilities to spare them this confrontation, but life is confrontation, right? I mean we don't just all float around in bubbles of foamy bliss all day. I realized at some point, well into the night, that I was breaking my own heart for these imaginary folks. Is that normal? So I did what I do whenever I feel sad or frustrated or restless: I quoted all of my favorite lines from Lost in Translation and stopped when Bob says quietly, "You're not hopeless."
I seriously crush on that movie because I can relate to both Charlotte and Bob; her searching, artistic nature and his jaded, mid life crisis induced depression. I will finish these Hermione's Everyday Socks one day, but not this day. This day, I am going to post boring photos of my feet, accept the fact that I am now officially a soccer mom, and try to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Wish me luck.