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Nothing more disappointing than starting on the last story in the anthology you’ve been reading, and realising you’ve read it before.

(Just kidding. There are lots of way more disappointing things…but I was particularly bummed out by that one last night.)

Oh well. Done with Cthulhu for a while. Moved on to the last book in Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake trilogy…I’m extremely upset that I’m reading it though, because the first book was great. The second one was nowhere near as good, and this last one looks to be just more of the same.

I wish authors did not feel the desire to continue a storyline until it’s not absorbing or fun anymore, and becomes something far inferior to what it started out as.

Again: oh well.

Pretty exhausted right now, but I feel like I should not go to bed yet because if I do, I’ll wake up too early…not having anything close to a consistent sleep schedule sucks. I hate that yesterday, I had to get up at 530am just to get to work on time, and that tomorrow it will be after 2am when I leave work to come home. I slept for 11 hours last night…started falling asleep while reading at about 130am, and woke up a bit after noon.

Went hiking with my youngest sister. The kind of activity where we wish almost right away that we’d never decided to do it, but that we keep doing anyway because afterward it doesn’t seem so bad…traipsing up and down hills and me wheezing because there is too much water in the air and my lungs can’t filter enough of it out. And both of us not speaking, but now and then pointing out a shadowy false pathway or a seemingly-intentional clearing that is removed from the path, and making little remarks about the Devil. Or witches. Or dark, antlered figures.

I am pretty certain those moments are the ones that we keep going on these hikes for. So that we can make dark little speculations.

Our other sister is upset that we didn’t ask her along. I can’t fathom why though, since her least favourite thing to do is be outside. And there’s always been a genuine animosity between she and I, which makes me think that taking her along would not only destroy the one reason for going, but that she would make everything downright unpleasant with her complaining and meanness.

No matter.

Now I am going to go back to my pathetic attempt to write more in my saving Christmas dream story … what a lot of rubbish.

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