While she was going through her tons and tons of papers, your girl came across a whole first chapter of a morbid story she has no recollection of writing, but the style was hers, and she dimly remembers that she went through a spooky phase way back when she and Husband were first dating. Needless to say, the pages went straight into the waste basket.
Fiorella's forehead is hurting from that hematoma the stepladder gave her and her shoulder blade is hurting from carrying loads of books from one set of shelves to another. Fio will be happy when all Fio has to do in her studio is write stories, paint, and draw.
Eureka! Your girl suddenly realized that the long chest at the bottom of the bed in her former master bedroom was exactly what she needed to store her clothes in at her new home.
Fio has yet another medical appointment tomorrow. She's happy the system is so thorough, but it's also a little overwhelming. The good thing is that, so far, she's supposedly in good shape--which is a miracle given the amount of chocolate she downs every day.
Hmm...my newspaper was not delivered on Saturday or Sunday, but one showed up on Monday. And yes, I'll call the newspaper about the situation.
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