All in the Timing

I love break more than ever. I'm reading SO much. I just read All in the Timing, a book of plays by David Ives, and I am now in love with David Ives. The house is empty except for cake and pizza, and I'm not complaining, just growing a nice new layer of fat to get me through the winter. Now that I'm done with All in the Timing, I'll have no choice but to start my nonfiction. I know exactly where to start, but I don't have the courage just yet to start there. It was around this time last year: winter 2007/2008. I can't be sure exactly when. Wish me luck. I'm really afraid, actually. And that just proves that I should write this. And to hell with what Cooper thinks about the structure of a story. I can write my life in my own way. And I just realized that it's probably good that I lost my phone. Because that asshole (not Cooper. Cooper is not an asshole) is no doubt calling it right now, wanting me to wish him a happy Christmas. No. No no no. My feet are numb, and I am shivering, and it's time to find some blankets.