The first Flunk Day scare came today, a year to the day after Flunk Day last year. I've been having a lot of one year on issues, so last night and today was kind of difficult. That and a lot of other things made yesterday a very horrible day. Sean called me dumb because I made some mention of a cell phone that apparently was way off. Well, that's fine. I don't know anything about cell phones, having never owned one, much less been able to afford owning one. So I ignored him the rest of the night, even though he IMed me a couple of times. If he'd apologized, that would have been one thing, but apparently he didn't even realize I was angry. So I don't feel like talking to him. I was so frustrated and upset last night that I went for a walk. I sat on the grassy hill by the track and cried for nearly an hour. Mark came looking for me, but couldn't find me. When I got back, we talked a little and then went for another walk. Things were better after that. Things are better in general, but the Flunk Day scare today kind of shook me up.
Now I have to finish a story and e-mail it out to the class, the sooner the better, so it can be workshopped on Thursday. I probably should have called into work today. But I actually don't think there is a whole lot more that needs to go into it. A couple of new scenes, and I think it'll be mostly done.
Richard held up the manila envelope, the color of which reminded Nadine of an old bruise. "Here it is," he said reverantly, placing it on the table. "Addressed, stamped, and ready to go."
Nadine said nothing. The possibility contained in that envelope made her stomach hurt. She finished her coffee.
Richard glanced at his watch and sighed. "I guess this isn't getting out today, though. Still need to shower and get dressed. That's all right, though."
"I was actually going to go for a walk before class. I'm supposed to make an observation for my SoAn class, and I need to pick up a few things. I could swing by the post office," Nadine found herself saying.
Richard shoved the envelope across the table to her, his grin wide. "I love you, sweetie," he said in his best imitation-serious voice. They almost never used pet names.
She got up to change into jeans and walking shoes, and he to shower. As she left the room, he let his hand brush her arm, and she stopped. He gathered her to him and held her tenderly for a moment. Then he released her and she left, picking up the envelope and feeling the weight of importance within it. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to go back to that moment of his embrace.