The day never really dawned, as such. Misty, gray, chilly--it wasn't till about 3:30 that a brush of sun showed on the slopes across the river. And that was short-lived.
The day matched this weird space between Christmas and New Year's--I always find it difficult to feel like it's 'real' time. Instead, it feels like a floating, tenuous non-reality.
I did manage to pay a few bills (there's some reality for you) and write thank you notes, as well as reading a novel Claui gave me for Christmas.
It was a "blind date" novel in a plain brown wrapper, labeled as a thriller. My Darling Girl by Jennifer McMahon turned out to be a riveting read for me, partly because much of it recalled my own experience with a difficult, Jekyll and Hyde sort of mother. (Though, I hasten to add, nothing as disturbing as the novel,)
What begins like a Hallmark movie, devolves into psychological terror. And it left me a little stunned--and, suitable to the day--a bit outside of time.
