Ok, how is it possible for me to go to Haiti, eat less, have "Aristide's revenge" and gain weight? HUH? I almost dumped the scale into the hot tub. Well, I would have except it's still not fixed and there are enough problems with that.
I want to be like Fatima, the heroine I'm writing now. She has it all together. yeah, she's got flaws, like being stubborn and her hips she thinks are a little too curvy, but Fatima's tent is neat, organized. My domicile looks like a herd of turtles ran through it. Her hair is long, black and curly. Mine is all frizzed today like I stuck my finger into an electrical socket. Fatima doesn't have to deal with a lazy Shih Tzu snoring beneath the bed, another dog so paranoid he JUMPED INTO THE BATHTUB at 7 a.m. (WTH?) because he's scared of the garbage trucks.
That's right. My poor dog is terrified of garbage trucks.
And I don't know what to do about it. Fatima doesn't have to pay bills, worry about the roof leaking (still!!) microbes she might have picked up in Haiti that could be dancing a conga line in her stomach or her man getting surgery next week and being on edge because he's dreading it. Fatima just gets to have great sex, sex, sex!!! and argue with Tarik about a woman's role and being a warrior and then have more sex, sex, sex. Oh and try to find out who is trying to kill Tarik.
I want to be my heroine. I want a tent stuck in the middle of the desert, a sword, an attitude and above all, psychic vision like she has. Because I have NO idea if I will ever see the ending of this book and it would be nice to get a glimpse of finally being able to write, THE END.