Yeah, Pretty Much…

World: “So Derra, how’ve you been?”

Me: “Hey World. I’m doin’ pretty good. You?”

World: “I’m good, but seriously how are you? I sense that your mind is off a bit.”

Me: “Nah, I’m good. Yeah, sure I’m a bit off my game, but I’ve got it handled.”

World: “C’mon chica, lay it on me. Vent out that undo stress.”

Me: “Yeah…nah, I’m good. Besides trust me, you don’t want to know. ”

World: “C’mon, I sincerely want to know.”

Me: “Are you sure…?”

World: “Yes…my ears are yours.”

Me: “Ok, well I am now working with a new publisher. She seems very nice and knowledgeable, yet I’m still apprehensive because of the experience with my previous publisher. My next manuscript is nearly perfect while the fictional story I’m writing is stressing me out a bit. Which yes, I am stress eating (thank God for a freakishly high metabolism). My siblings are currently being punks and I swear I would remove myself as the oldest if I could. You have implanted these thoughts of a handsome human in my mind that I won’t ever be with, my heart is feeling a feeling I’m unfamiliar with and why you won’t allow me to let this go is frustrating. Plus, my birthday is Friday! I hate my birthday! So, there you go.”

World: “Damn…I wasn’t ready for all that. I mean…”

Me: “I warned you. I told you to not ask me that.”

World: “Anything I can do to help?”

Me: “You really want to help…go scoop a couple scoops of ice cream in those bowls while I pull out the pumpkin spice Palmiers out of the oven.”

World: “Oooo, did you make those? They smell delicious.”

Me: “Yep, I did. Baking is calming to me.”

World: “Holy shit! That is bomb!”

Me: “Thanks. Now, excuse me while I tune out everything and watch the finale of the Halloween Baking Championship. Good talk though.”

I hope the roof flies off and I get blown out into space, I always make such expensive mistakes, I know it’s just a number but you’re the eighth wonder, I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker color… -Fall Out Boy

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