A muscle spasm while I was running got today off to a VERY bad start, so finally doing some messy bedtime writing. Photobomb from an old childhood friend, because I’m that weird grown-ass adult lady with stuffed animals, come at me.
I’ve reached the “why would anyone ever want to fucking read this” part of the novel, but my beloved got me a very important necklace to remind me why I’m doing this.
gracetopia 