killing time.

Somehow the Irish incident seems to have um, adjusted, the lens of my camera and it no longer works. I sat down yesterday with Mom’s camera taking pictures of the apple tree in the yard and Lucy(fur) the neighbors adorable dog. I swore I’d never love a small dog. More on that later, though, once you can appropriately understand my obsession.

Today. Today. Waiting. Passing time. Killing it. Two thirty. Hopefully they won’t see me until two thirty three and I’ll feel better about things, but time is just a number anyway.

Killing time is a nasty expression, really.

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About kb

free spirit, lover of red wine, bacon, sushi, the ocean, and adventure. I work in the legal field, do freelance writing, and take care of children.

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