Saturday night. Currently relaxing in my apartment, staring down the pamphlet on the table. It’s been so long since I’ve written anything of halfway decent quality, and now, there it is. Just sitting right there on the table. In pamphlet format. What kind of Bridgerton-ass shit is this? Bizarre.

I’ve been sitting with it all day. It’s strange to interact with. It makes me feel like a cat. Like maybe I should walk around the table three times and look at it from every angle before gently pushing it onto the floor. Then I rolled it up on my pen and carried it around in my pocket with me while I was taking a walk. Then I draped across the couch and read it seven times before using the paper itself as a fan. Why is this such an interactive experience? Like, what is it?

So bizarre.

I spent some time trying to discern if it is, in fact, a new character, and not just Andrew wearing another one of his disguises. That was harder than I thought it would be, but I’m pretty sure it’s not Andrew… But only by about 90%. I don’t know. He could still rip the mask off and reveal his true nature. This has happened before where I thought I was writing something different, but it was really just the same thing in disguise.

Tricky. Very tricky.

I’m very suspicious of it, whatever it is. I’m gonna be pretty mad if I keep writing it and it turns out to be Andrew again. Ugh. I’m so sick of him. Please let it be a new character. I desperately need a breath of fresh air.

Otherwise, I am very calm. Getting my mind right. This is the first time I’ve been completely alone with my thoughts and no responsibilities to worry about for many, many years. I don’t have to worry about taking care of anyone but me. I’m not in a situation I’m particularly desperate to escape. I just need to take charge over my situation and find myself a new job.

Easier said than done. I just don’t do well when confined to certain structures that try to strip me of all my unique personality traits in favor of turning me into a soulless corporate drone. At least I know that about myself. I don’t know what will actually work. I only know what doesn’t work, so there’s that.

For now, I’m just giving myself a mental break to meditate, do yoga, and write whatever the hell this new story is. What is it? Furthermore, why can’t I write what I actually want to write? Why is this the stuff that comes out of my pen instead? Frustrating.

Well, either way, I wrote something, and I haven’t written anything that wasn’t Bloody Mary’s or Andrew in a long, long, long time, so I welcome whatever it is with open arms. It’s like being delivered a special scroll by a falcon or something. Love that for me.

Hmm. Interesting. Very interesting.

Alright, time to go. I’m being tempted away by something they’re calling a “Love Potion.” Hopefully it will fuel whatever inspiration is hiding behind this pamphlet. Can we maybe turn this into a book and sell it for some cash? That would be helpful, just saying. Like, really helpful.

Thanks in advance, fam.