I stayed up all night working on my novel. I have finished five chapters so far. It is a fictional piece about a family of share croppers growing up in the great depression of the South in the thirties. I have titled it Hardscrabble Times. I am modeling it after my grandmother’s life. I may start serializing the novel if any of you are interested in reading it. I will chop it up into blog friendly tidbits.
Rosa cooked breakfast this morning which consisted of those canned Pillsbury biscuits, orange juice, and coffee in the kitchen upstairs.
“God, I need a cigarette,” Was the first thing she said after walking downstairs after breakfast.
I watched as she stepped into my den to light one and stood there smoking.
“What are you looking at?” She said as she smiled.
“Oh, just you,” I said. “I do the same thing first thing in the morning. That first smoke after sleeping all night is the best of the day.”
I just wish I could sleep like Rosa. She managed seven hours of sleep last night. I am seriously contemplating getting a sleep aid, but worry that with my obsessive compulsive addictive mind I will get hooked or will abuse them.
Well, let me get a shower, take Rosa home, and get this day going.