Flora, Walter Crane
So, thought it would be nice to rejoin the Fictionaires, a private writers’ group I belonged to for many years. Visions of reconnecting with writer friends and meeting new faces danced in my head like the proverbial sugar plums. I started straight from work last night for the drive to Anaheim, had my game face on, expected tough patches and slow-going on certain freeways–had to take 4, knew it would be a bit difficult. But–holy crow! (as Bella would say).
Two hours later, crawling along on the 5 East, after crawling along on the 10 East, trapped like an ant in mud, and with one more freeway still to go, I felt like I was driving to the moon. Talk about mission impossible! No way could I leave work at 5:30 and arrive in Anaheim by 7, not even by 7:30! Henceforth, I shall refrain from making anymore such idiotic decisions!