I'm playing another round of solitaire tonight, because what else is there to do? Something I have played since I was five years old. When I didn't have anyone else, there was solitaire. Books were my friends, too. I remember pleading with my Mum to stay up an extra half-hour to read. She allowed it, but I realize now that my parents were amused. Stay up to watch t.v.? Not me. I only just now occurred to me I could have asked for that. Boy, and it only took forty-three years for that realization.
What else haven't I sorted out yet? Well, right now I lay in bed with my iPad writing this. Not feeling especially tired, I decided to play Spider Solitaire. Since I had just left Writing.com, obviously I needed to come back and write about solitaire. I don't know why, I just had to. The same thing happened last night. I suddenly had a sentence in my head that required me to write it down. Then I ranted for a few paragraphs, and somehow felt better afterward. Why, though? Good grief, all I have to offer here are questions. Well, that won't get. Me anywhere.
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