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I was looking forward to that.
Hopefully, I’d live long enough to see it.
“Here,” he said, pressing something thin and rectangular into my hands. “Cassie wanted me to give you this.”
I vaguely recognized it as one of those flowery journal things the chain bookstore downtown sold near the registers. It saidMy First Bullet Journalacross the cover in flowing pink script.
“Why did Cassie want me to have a bullet journal?” I asked. Reasonably, I thought.
Frederick put a hand on my shoulder. I stared at it mistrustfully. “You’ve been under a lot of strain,” he said gently. “I also know you don’t want to talk with Dr. Leicenster about it—”
“That man is a quack,” I cut in.
“A point upon which reasonable minds can differ,” he countered. “Cassie—we—just think that if you’re going through something this difficult, and you don’t want to seek professional help, at least you can journal about it and see if organizing your thoughts helps.”
I didn’t see how writing about my feelings would make me feel better. But I also wasn’t in the mood to argue about it. I was tired, I was rattled, and I was hungry.
I just wanted to go home.
“I’ll think about it,” I lied. The first Little Free Library I saw on my way home would be getting a new donation. “Tell Cassie I said thanks.”
THREE
Excerpt from R.C.’s bullet journal, written in black ballpoint pen
Mission statement:To live each day with courage, compassion, and curiosity. To become a better version of myself each day and inspire others in my path to do the same.(Got to figure out better mission statement, the one that came with this journal is stupid)
Feelings: Stressed. Anxious. Distracted.
Roles I play in my life: Friend, enemy, “frenemy,” vampire, amateur glockenspielist
Today’s goals:
blend in (via F’s boring outfits)
avoid getting murdered
try “Bullet Journaling” (most ideas Cassie thinks are good are actuallybad, but what the heck. Nothing to lose by trying).
Tomorrow’s goals: Same goals as today. Also: take out the trash.
Amelia
It took me a lotlonger than I wanted to get my strange interaction with Mr. Fedora Asshole out of my head.
I thought about him all the way to the El, despite telling myself to shake it off. But what if hewasin some kind of danger? He didn’t seem delusional, despite his other peculiarities. And I didn’t think he had made any of it up; it was far too weird a story for any person’s imagination to have conjured it out of thin air.
