Fred

But not actually. Mother, grandmother, not father, grandfather. I need a name. Eleanor maybe. 
I have gone through that first day in my head too many times. Every possible way it could happen, and it's sort of killing me. I need to focus on here. Now.  
Who's passing econ with flying colors? This girl. And though I'm not particularly proud, as there is very little mental effort involved, it is a large weight lifted off my shoulders. World History will give me things to write about and it will be wonderful to feel things strongly about the modern world. There are very few things I love more than essaying about something I can support with facts. I'm working on one about the Trail of Tears and the terribly admirable Andrew Jackson. 
I need to type a lot of things up. I need to gain back the simplicity of the March mindset and just write. If only I had the time. Way to go Econ, leeching away all my joys. I didn't even get one lousy episode of Grey's in today. And you know what I also missed, which I will blame you for even though you're a class with no direct effects on my rehearsal schedule? I missed the first carefully, cautiously, quietly line tonight, and when it came up later I was mad. Not really mad, just like. "Ugh, you line. Come back in my brain please."
I walked into the house at 11:12 this evening, and I find myself smiling. You Sir, are finding very odd ways of answering me. Thank you, very much. 
I love speaking slow. I love standing on that stage and not being told I need to jump around and exhibit my energy like a child in order to be good. I believe Ella Fitzgerald planted herself and just sang beautifully. Energy is not necessarily motion, and motion should not imply energy. I am an old woman, in more ways than one, and so I fully intend to stand still and speak. I'm told, nightly, the effect is quite powerful. And to be frank, I am very proud of that. 
It's just so relevant, isn't it? 
Sometimes I think of Severus. Sometimes I think of Dennis. And sometimes, I think that I will end up as myself, no matter what happens today, or tomorrow, next week, next year, the next eighty years (here's to hoping I live that long) and upon death. Me. It's already too late to try and fit Someone Else, nor do I have any desire to do so. And in my consistently unstable mind, I find that to be a staggeringly beautiful thing.