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angryinternetduck · 5 years ago

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Sunshine

4.6k words exactly on a glowing fem!reader and Harry Styles finally realizing they're more than friends. A few bad words but no other warnings I can think of. Happy reading!!!

Harry always said that you glowed.

He liked to say you were a star: in your actions, in your words, in your very being. He loved to gush compliments over you, drowning you in sweet words and affectionate touches and letting you know just how much he loved you. And sure, most of that took place while he was drunk, but hey - drunk words are sober thoughts, right?

Either way, he sure did compare you to a star a lot when he was drunk, and after a while, it even carried over to sober words too when he gave you the nickname of Sunshine. And, despite your tendency to complain and correct him, you weren’t too mad about it.

You’d met him at a bar, late one night after a particularly messy breakup. He’d been positively hammered, and had approached you with the weakest pick up line you’d ever heard in your entire life.

“You, darling,” he’d slurred confidently, “light up my world… like… like nobody else.”

“Really?” you’d replied, just as drunk. “Is that so?”

“That’s so,” he’d said. He bopped your nose. “Right sunshine, you are.”

The whole night was a blur of bad jokes and aggressive flirting that never actually went anywhere. That’s what you always assumed, anyway, because you’d woken up the next morning alone in your bed with only a killer headache and his number in your cell.

It took you two weeks to call him, and, a bit tipsy, you’d given him your address and offered a night in. You had a few ideas in mind, ones that included quite a different morning after than the previous time you’d seen him, but him coming over in the softest blue jumper you’d ever seen and carrying bags of Chinese take away was not on the list.

“Tell me, Sunshine,” he’d said by way of greeting, “do you have anything fun to drink?”

“Plenty of Capri Sun,” you’d answered.

“Well,” Harry laughed, “with Capri Sun and take away, how could we go wrong?”

That morning after was, technically, quite different than the last, but - again - not in the way you’d expected. You’d traded favorite movies, talking over every scene of Love Actually with snarky commentary and shushing him when he tried to do the same with yours, and fell asleep on the couch hours after the sun rose.

Another drunken night brought another drunken phone call, and another and another, until the phone calls became sober and the random drunken nights became consistent Friday afternoons. You were making a decent headway on classic movies - movies the two of you deemed classic, anyway - and celebrated the first anniversary of your meeting at the bar where you’d met.

It was that night, one year since you’d met Harry Styles, staring at your ceiling fan and listening to him snore, that you’d realized two things at once. One, that you hadn’t dated anyone in a year, and two, that you didn’t care - you were perfectly content as it was. And, you’d thought vaguely, Harry had never mentioned a girlfriend, either.

Strange.

☀️☀️☀️

That lasted another month, and then you met your boyfriend.

His name was Oliver, and he was sweet. Smart. Cute. You really liked him. Of course you did. You’d met him at some party and hit it off almost immediately, and he took you out to dinner a few days after you met. He brought you flowers, and paid for the meal, and at the end of the night, he gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.

Harry was a bit skeptical about the lad, and he wasn’t afraid to voice his concerns.

“Sounds like a prick,” he’d said casually, mouth full of popcorn, when you’d told him all about your new boyfriend and his various hopes and dreams. Your jaw dropped. “What?” you’d said incredulously.

“Dunno,” Harry replied. “Just giving me the wrong vibes.”

And, when you’d shown him a picture, all he had to say was, “Those shoes are weird.”

You only scoffed, and he shrugged, looking at you like you were the one who was crazy. “What?” he said. “Can’t have a man without a fashion sense - don’t want him to be buying you rubbish gifts, hm?”

Despite all the slander, Harry had been adamant about meeting him.

“I need to meet this guy, Sunshine,” he’d insisted.

“Yeah, sure,” was your constant reply, “maybe some time.”

But for some reason, you’d procrastinated with the whole meetup thing. You weren’t quite sure of the exact reason why, although Harry’s skepticism on him probably didn’t help. Harry finally took it into his own hands and sent him a message on Instagram, which led to a very strange, awkward movie night.

“He seems nice,” Oliver said at the end of the night as he walked you home, and you nodded. “Mhm,” you hummed softly. “I don’t know about his taste in movies, though,” he’d gone on with a teasing smile, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Ten Things I Hate About You? A bit sappy, huh?”

You laughed a bit, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, he’s a… sappy guy.”

The conversation fizzled out after that, but it was a comfortable silence, and you didn’t mind too much. You seemed to have a lot of comfortable silence with him. He walked you home, and kissed you goodnight, and never came to another movie night again.

☀️☀️☀️

“Heya!” you exclaimed as Harry opened the door of his flat, already scooting past him before he’d stepped back. “Hey, Sunny,” Harry replied, and you corrected him with your name as you plopped four bags of take away on his table.

“Did you invite somebody?” Harry asked, and you frowned. “What?”

Harry grinned, nodding at the food. “That’s food enough for four, love.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and kept taking boxes out of the bags. “I’m just doing my duties,” you told him. “You’re a growing boy, Styles.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Growing horizontally if you keep this up, Sunshine.”

You handed him a pair of chopsticks. “So have at it, growing-horizontally boy.”

“If you insist.”

You collapsed on the couch next to him with a box of lo maine, but when he didn’t say anything and just stared thoughtfully at his food, you asked, “Penny for your thoughts?” He glanced at you, and smiled. “I found a girl,” he said.

Your jaw dropped, your eyes going comically wide. “You found a girl?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Well, fuck, H, my bad, but it’s been so long I -” You cut yourself off when Harry shot you a glare. A beat of silence, and then, still grinning, you dragged out, “Soooooooooooo…” and asked, “What’s her name?” Harry smiled. “Astrid.”

“Astrid,” you echoed, pulling a face. “Sounds like a pink haired anime character.”

“You don’t even watch anime,” Harry muttered.

“Still,” you said. “Is she nice? What’s she look like? If she has pink hair I’m gonna -”

“She’s blonde, Sunny,” Harry interrupted, ignoring your glare at the nickname. “And she’s very nice. Proper smart, too - going to med school at the mo’.” You pursed your lips. “Sounds snobby.”

“She’s not.”

You shrugged, spinning noodles round your fork. “Where’d you meet her?”

Harry hesitated, and then, “Starbucks.”

You paused, looked up at him, raised a brow. “Starbucks?”

“Yeah. She’s barista-ing ‘till she gets her degree.”

“When’s your date?”

Harry hesitated, again, and told her, “Last night.”

You scoffed. “Last night?”

“Woulda gone to a pet store if I wanted a parrot, Sunshine.”

“Sunshine, my ass!” you exclaimed. “When’d you meet her?”

“Monday.”

“Monday?” you practically shrieked, talking over him when he murmured something about parrots and asking, “And you didn’t tell me this Wednesday because?” Harry shrugged. “Didn’t wanta tell you ‘bout something that would go south.”

A pause. “So it went north?”

Harry grinned. “To the stars, Sunny, she’s wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, she’s amazing.”

A pause, again, and Harry glanced over at you, and you were smiling, just a bit, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “You’re looking at me funny, Sunshine.” You shrugged. “It’s just weird, is all.” You frowned. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

Harry flushed. “Not important.”

“Riiiiight,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. You settled against the couch, twirling noodles around your fork before slurping a noodle into your mouth. “So,” you went on, running your tongue over your lips, “tell me about it!”

“What?” Harry asked distractedly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“The date, moron.”

Harry’s smile faded, and he shrugged, his enthusiasm suddenly lost. He looked at his food. “Erm - it was good. She’s brilliant.” You laughed, prodding him with your foot. “Gotta give me more than that, Styles. What happened to ‘to the stars’?”

“She’s really into astrology,” Harry mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving her a chance.”

“You’re not giving me a proper picture!” you insisted. “Give me details, dude, c’mon.”

He bit his lip, studying you for a second before looking away. “She’s… she’s perfect, Sunny. She just - she glows. And she’s so funny. She always knows what to say, too, like she can read my mind. And Christ, Sunshine, she’s gorgeous. Her smile’s brighter than the sun and…” He looked up, meeting your gaze with a lopsided smile. “And she’s got the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen,” he finished, his voice going quiet.

“That’s more like it!” you cheered. “Maybe I’ll give this girl a chance!”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“Where’d you guys go?”

“Some little restaurant by the river…”

“Ooh, by the river - you walked with her, right? All romantic?”

Harry nodded. “Mhm. Saw some stars, too.

You snickered. “Did she tell you your future from the constellations?”

Harry groaned, tossing a pillow at you. “Stop itttt,” he dragged.

“Sorry, sorry,” you giggled, “please continue.”

“It was fantastic. She -”

“Wait a minute,” you interrupted. “Wait a minute, you called me this morning. At, like, eight o’clock!” Harry nodded. “Yup,” he said, and you frowned. “So you… didn’t get laid?” Harry scoffed. “Mr. Checkered Shoes over there didn’t shag you the first date, now did he?”

“Yeah, well, he’s a gentleman, and you’re a dick, so -”

“I am not!” Harry exclaimed. He smiled smugly. “Ask Astrid.”

“Oh, I will,” you replied, just as smugly. “Wanna invite her over for a movie night?”

“Abso -” He paused, frowning slightly. “Maybe later.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Later, huh? Should I send her a dm?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Harry warned, and you laughed.“Sure, sure,” you told him, wondering what a girl named Astrid would have as her Instagram handle and whether or not she’d reply to a perfect stranger’s message.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry missed the next week’s movie night because of Astrid.

You didn’t mind.

You’d been wanting to spend more time with your boyfriend, anyway.

And if you kept your phone by your side the whole night through, waiting for a heartbroken text from Harry saying it didn’t quite work out with Astrid the pink haired barista, nobody had to know.

☀️☀️☀️

Astrid’s timing was perfect. She met Harry Styles at the end of January, on a cold winter’s day just begging for a warm cup of coffee. She wasn’t even supposed to be there that day; she was supposed to take off, but the guy who was supposed to cover for her couldn’t make it because of the snow. She’d never been more miserable to live walking distance from her work than that morning.

Her mood had lifted, however, when a new face had stepped into the coffee shop. A new, dangerously gorgeous face that was grinning a swoon-worthy smile down at his cell phone when he walked in. Astrid didn’t even get annoyed when he took a call in line. Hearing him greet somebody named Sunshine with that deep, accented voice of his practically made her melt on the spot.

She felt a bit of a twinge when the man said the name of the person he was talking to, which sounded a bit feminine, but didn’t think on it too much. She managed to take his order and hand him his coffee without making a fool of herself, and the worrying started after he walked out the door.

He called the girl on the phone darling. And Sunshine. Who nicknames a friend or sister Sunshine? And the way he was grinning while he was talking to that girl - there’s no way that much fondness could be for a friend. He looked like he was walking on… well, sunshine, as he talked, and that laugh…

Well.

So her hopes fizzled out, and she was certain that was the last she’d see of him.

Until the next day, when he came back.

And this time, since Astrid wasn’t even worried about impressing a potential boyfriend, they actually had a conversation. His name was Harry, she learned that day, and he was the dorkiest, funniest man she’d ever met. Even just after a two minute conversation, Astrid wanted to be friends with this guy.

The next day, Astrid learned something even more interesting. Surprisingly, it turned out that that Sunshine girl really was just a friend, and Astrid had a date with this Harry guy that Thursday night.

The date went magnificently (of course), and he asked her out again the next week. He was like something out of a fairy tale, this guy, and Astrid was absolutely charmed. She just couldn’t wait to see him again.

☀️☀️☀️

Oliver broke up with you.

It came out of nowhere, a whispered, “I think we should take a break,” after a night out, and despite everything, you were upset. It was just weird not having him around. He was one of those guys that gave you good morning and goodnight texts and called you every night (except Fridays) just to see how you were doing.

He was pretty much the perfect boyfriend, and all you could think was that it was your fault. You just were never really into him. You loved him as a friend, but he just didn’t seem like boyfriend material. You never felt that connection.

So really, all you could do was be thankful that he’d been so civil about the break up. He hadn’t seemed too angry about anything, hadn’t made a whole big scene, just did it quietly and politely and told you he hoped you could still be friends.

Which you couldn’t be, kind of, but at least the thought was there.

Regardless, you were a single woman once again, and you had a best friend to rant to.

☀️☀️☀️

That best friend you were supposed to rant to was MIA.

The week before was fine. You understood. He wanted to be with Astrid, he had a girlfriend, whatever. And really, this week shouldn’t be any different, since - as far as you knew, anyway - the girlfriend situation was still the same.

Only difference was that he told you.

The week before, he’d sent you an emoji laden text message apologizing profusely for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it. This week was radio silence. After spamming his phone with text messages and calling four or five times, you’d pretty much given up. You were waiting in your apartment, forty minutes after he was supposed to come, and feeling like a loser with a capital L.

After an hour of boredom and no Harry, you decided to take things into your own hands. He’d probably forgotten (not that he’d forgotten once in all the weeks you’d been doing this) and was sitting at home, scrolling through Twitter or playing the guitar or doing whatever Harry Styles did with his free time.

So you got into your car, and drove.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry grinned when he finally shifted his key right in the door, and he pushed it open as Astrid giggled and pushed him back against it, closing it again, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Harry kissed her back and tried not to think about how her perfume was just a bit too strong, or how she was being just a tad too aggressive with her tongue, or how he didn’t really want to go anywhere past a bit of a snog but she didn’t seem to be on the same page.

Vaguely, Harry realized the light was on, and then slightly less vaguely, he realized he hadn’t left them on, and then not vaguely at all, he heard a clink and realized there was somebody else in his flat.

He pulled away from Astrid, who whined and tried to pull him back, and turned around to see you sat on his sofa with a bowl of cereal and a pair of earbuds. Harry groaned and muttered, “One sec,” to Astrid before walking over to you and pulling the earbuds out of your ears.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Eating cereal,” you replied all too casually, holding up your bowl.

“Fuck’s sake, you’re not supposed to be here!”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but -”

Harry groaned your name, shaking his head. “No, no, no, you can’t just do this! You -”

“You know what? You didn’t show up!” you interrupted. “You didn’t show up, and ignored all my texts, and Olly broke up with me, and I was sad!” You scowled. “I was sad, and I thought you’d be here, and I wouldn’t have come over if you’d just” - you glanced behind him at Astrid who was still standing by the door - “told me you had a date!”

Harry paused. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just -”

“Hey, Harry?” Astrid cut in from the door. “I think I’m gonna… take off…”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, spinning around. “No, no, she’s leaving! We can -”

Astrid gave an awkward laugh and shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll see you later, Styles.”

She left, and Harry felt a bit of shame for the flash of relief he felt. He sighed and turned to you. “Happy?” he asked. You scoffed. “Happy?” you echoed. “What, you think I did this on purpose?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You never come in unless I’m here too.”

“That’s not true.”

Harry pursed his lips, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and pouring himself some cereal from the bag you’d so thoughtfully neglected to put back in the cabinet. He poured some milk and grabbed a spoon, and sat on the sofa next to you. “Look,” he said. “I’m sorry about Olly, alright? I just wish you would text me before coming over.”

“Never told me to before,” you grumbled. “Well, now I have a girlfriend,” Harry snapped, and then frowned, looking at the door a bit forlornly. “I did, anyway, although I’m not so sure she’ll come back after -”

“You guys’ll be fine, H, calm down,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes as you chased a fruit loop around your bowl. “You’re too damn pretty to be dumped ‘cause of - what, a failed hook up session?”

Harry didn’t reply, and you looked up. He was smiling at you. Looked almost smug.

You frowned. “What?”

“You called me pretty.”

You groaned and tossed a pillow at him, which he dodged, but not without spilling a splash of milk onto the couch. “Please,” you muttered. “Have some dignity.” Harry smirked. “Oh, I’ve plenty of dignity, ‘specially after the first compliment I’ve gotten from you in years.”

“Oh, please!” you said again. “That’s just not fair.”

There was a beat of silence before Harry cleared his throat. “So, Oliver broke up with you?” You shrugged. “Yeah.” Harry nudged your foot with his. “‘m sorry,” he murmured, and you shrugged again. “Yeah,” you repeated.

“Do you want to… talk about it?” Harry asked hesitantly.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

You stirred your milk around your bowl, deep in thought, as Harry flicked on the TV and found a movie, but you looked up when you heard the beginnings of your favorite movie. You smiled, glancing over at Harry. “Thanks, H,” you said softly.

Harry grinned, putting an arm around your shoulders. “‘f course, Sunshine.”

☀️☀️☀️

“Astrid broke up with me,” Harry announced as he walked into your apartment.

You looked up from your couch, startled. It was only two days after you’d interrupted their date, and you’d been watching a TV show before he’d walked in. “Wow,” you replied, unsure what to say. “Um… I’m sorry, H.”

“Yeah,” he said, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. He gave a lopsided smile. “Guess I’m not too pretty to be broken up with, hm?” You laughed a bit uneasily. “Yeah, yeah, I guess not. Are you… okay?”

“I dunno. But I - I want to get out of here.”

You frowned. “And go… where?”

“Dunno,” he repeated, shrugging slightly.

“Well…”

“Christ, Sunny, c’mon,” Harry laughed, green eyes bright as he pulled you up and gently pulled you towards the door. You raised an eyebrow but let him lead you outside and into his car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked as you slid into the passenger seat.

“I’m fine, Sunshine. Just wanta drive. Want some music?” he asked, already pulling out his phone. He clicked around for a second, making you frown and mutter, “If we get pulled over…”

Finally, he picked a song, and when the music poured through his speakers, you felt yourself smile as you recognized your favorite song. Harry grinned, poking you and making you giggle as he screamed out the lyrics.

Before you knew it, you were laughing and mumbling along with the song, and you were almost disappointed when the car slowed and Harry turned off the engine. You hadn’t even thought about where he’d been taking you, and you were surprised to step out of the car and onto soft grass.

You were looking up at some trees, feeling a bit intimidated by their enormous branches that towered over you in the dark night. The moon was barely visible through the leaves, and something about the whole scene felt a bit ominous.

You jumped when Harry gently touched your arm.

“Sorry,” he murmured, giving you a lopsided smile as his hand slid down to meet yours. You shivered in the cool air, letting Harry guide you through the trees. “If your way of cheering yourself up after a breakup is murdering me in a forest,” you began softly, and Harry grinned, nudging your shoulder with his. “Shoulda frisked me, Sunshine.”

You looked up to meet his eye, smiling despite yourself. “Maybe later.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Harry looked away. You continued to walk with him in silence, trying not to stress too much over the fact that you were walking hand in hand with him at night.

Your breath caught as you came to a clearing, and you felt Harry grinning as he watched your reaction. He’d brought you to a small clearing in the woods, and the scene was nothing less than magical.

The moon shone down onto the leafy ground, sparkling on the little stream that ran through the shrubs and bushes. Butterflies floated gracefully around the blooming flowers that rose from the grass, their wings iridescent in the light of the moon. Instead of ominous, the scene was calming, the humming of the insects comforting rather than scary.

“‘s pretty, isn’t it?” Harry said quietly.

“It’s gorgeous.”

He sat down in the grass, and you looked at him skeptically. “Is it wet?”

He shrugged. “Nah.”

“I’ll bite you if you’re lying,” you said.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he said back, smirking at you.

“Christ,” you muttered, crouching down next to him a bit hesitantly before deeming it appropriately dry and plopping down next to him. “So, uh… do you want to talk about it?” you asked after a moment of quiet.

He shook his head. “No, I… I don’t.”

You let your gaze linger on his face even as he looked away, and then sighed and asked, “How’d you even find this place?” Harry shrugged. “Dunno.” You grinned, nudging him with your shoulder. “Are you walking alone in the woods a lot, H?” you said teasingly. “Should I be worried?”

“Only for yourself,” he told you with a smirk.

You frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Harry grinned at you and leaned in, giving you a whiff of sweet cologne and mint. “You forgot to frisk me, Sunny,” he said lowly, and he was so close that you were momentarily flustered before you laughed and gently pushed him away from you.

Silence came back, settling comfortably between the two of you, and after a minute, you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder. “This is nice,” you murmured. Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said.

You looked up, keeping your chin on his shoulder. He looked positively ethereal, his profile glowing in the soft moonlight. He glanced at you after a second and smiled a bit. “You’re staring, Sunshine.”

“Did you really like Astrid?” you whispered.

His smile faded. “What kind of question is that?”

“You, um… Well, you’re awful chirpy for someone who just got broken up with.”

He looked down. “I dunno.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever had a serious girlfriend since I’ve known you.”

He still didn’t meet your eye. “Just haven’t found the right girl yet.”

A beat of silence, and then you spoke, your voice coming out barely a whisper.

“Are you sure?”

That was when he looked at you.

“No,” he said.

You sat up, swallowing thickly. “Hey, H?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face. “Yeah,” he murmured.

It was like a dam broke, then, and everything came rushing out, because you felt like you’d about die if you didn’t kiss him that very second. So you did. You kissed him, and the world stopped, and everything felt like it went frozen.

Time came to a grinding halt as your lips met his, and you swore you stopped breathing.

And then Harry pulled back. He was grinning. “Yeah,” he laughed, and you shifted into his lap as he kissed you again, and that was when the world slammed back into motion. It was a damn Disney movie in your mind, the world spinning around the two of you as butterflies appeared out of nowhere and blue birds flew in dizzying circles around your head.

You were both laughing, smiling against each other as you kissed each other breathless.

You never ever wanted to leave his side again.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry always says that you glow.

He likes to say you’re a star; in your actions, in your words, in your very being. He loves to gush compliments over you, drowning you in sweet words and affectionate touches and letting you know just how much he loves you. And sure, most of that takes place through drowsy giggles in the wee hours of the morning, but hey - still counts, right?

Either way, he sure does compare you to a star a lot, but at least now you can prove it to him. Now, you can kiss him back and drown him in sweet words and affectionate touches. Now, you can whisper I love yous as he presses featherlight kisses against your cheeks and eyelashes. Now, you can hold him and love him and do whatever you damn well please, because now, you’re not just any sunshine - you’re his Sunshine.

☀️☀️☀️

la fin ❤️

thanks for reading!!!

masterlist | ask

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles

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jenmedsbookreviews · 8 years ago

Text

Man. Where to even begin this week. Well. I will start by saying my reading achievements were next to none. Not quite none. But near enough. Work has been very demanding, I have been very tired and my heart just was not in it. No reflection on the books, more a reflection on my weary and rapidly ageing bones and brain telling me to take a break. In fact I am writing this post in stages as I know where my head is currently at so it if makes no sense come the end … well nowt new there really but this time there is an excuse at least 🙂

So, anyway. Aside from being generally ancient (turned 42 this past week don’t you know) I was preoccupied with something else. Lordy 42. Do you remember being a kid and thinking that people in their forties were ancient? Well I’ll let you into a secret – when you finally reach your forties you bloody feel it too. Just kidding. Age is just a number. Like my chest, mine is just larger than some, that’s all. But back to my point (wandering mind comes with age too…) I was away from home from Thursday until Sunday this week because I took the plunge, packed my backbone in a small holdall and made my way to Harrogate for the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Festival.

It’s an interesting festival, very different in tone to Crimefest, geared very much to a social atmosphere but encouraging and enticing readers with a healthy and steady supply of books. I say healthy with my tongue in my cheek (not easy to do without biting said tongue – don’t believe me try it), as carrying around the dang things all day has knackered my shoulder but hey ho.

As book hauls go, this week was mega. It was also rather big in terms of meeting people. I met a whole host of bloggers this weekend who I’m not going to try and name for fear of missing someone and causing great upset, but it was a pleasure to meet you all either finally or again (and you super lovely ones already know who you are 😉 ). I also met quite a few authors that I admire, including Robert Byrndza and the lovely Jan, Caroline Mitchell and Mel Sherratt, Graham Smith, Sarah Wray, Claire Seeber and also got to meet Keshini Naidoo (yes – a small Bookouture bias in this post I think).

It was also lovely to catch up with Kim Nash, Karen Sullivan, Steph Broadribb, Amanda Jennings, Lucy V Hay, Amer Anwar, Felicia Yap, Patricia Gibney, Bernie Steadman and Fiona Cummins again, and to get to say hi to Paul Burston as I absolutely loved his book The Black Path. I even remembered to take pictures of some of them (but not many as I suck at that). Oh yes, and it was nice to see Rod Reynolds again even if he did show Jo and Emma the terrible selfie he took at Crimefest (terrible because I was in it). And lovely to finally meet Graeme Cumming and have a catch up chat with Gabriela Harding in the quiet times. I’m just hoping I haven’t missed anyone and if I have I’m sorry and I do love you too. (Well at least like and admire – love is such a strong word 😉 ).

Have to give credit to Abbie Osborne for the selfies as I would totally not take those 😀

As well as generally milling about I did attend a couple of panels, though not as many as I perhaps would have liked so I’ll try better next time. The Friday night panel chaired by Sarah Millican and featuring Lee Child, Mark Billingham and Val McDermid was hilarious as you would expect. And I totally agree with Sarah Hilary’s shout out for Chris Whitaker as a totally brilliant writing talent. I also went to a blogger/author event organised by Orion where we met Mari Hannah, Emma Kavanagh, Stephanie Marland (aka Steph Broadribb, aka Crime Thriller Girl) and Lara Dearman, a forensics talk in which I learned many important things to include in ‘Killer’, and a quick start talk on writing crime fiction with Isabel Ashdown and Sam Eades.

And I had two lovely evenings out, firstly with Abigail Osborne, Leah and Jill of Jills Book Cafe, and then with Tracy Fenton and the guy and gals from TBC. Thanks for the company all.

And then there were the books… So. Many. Books.

I got the following:

The Devils Claw by Lara Dearman (Kindle pre order 7/9/17);

My Little Eye by Stephanie Marland (Kindle pre order 2/11/17) Happy dance moment :D;

The Wrong Child by Barry Gornell (Kindle pre order 2/11/17);

The Lost by Mari Hannah (Kindle preorder 2/3/18);

Murder at the Mill by M.B. Shaw (Kindle pre order 30/11/17);

Shadow Man by Margaret Kirk (Kindle pre order 2/11/17);

Beautiful Liars by Isabel Ashdown (Kindle pre order 19/4/18);

I Found You by Lisa Jewell;

The Seagull by Ann Cleeves (Kindle pre order 7/9/17) – The only book I actually purchased all weekend.

The Snowman by Jo Nesbo;

If I Die Before I Wake by Emily Koch (Kindle pre order 11/1/18);

Give Me The Child by Mel McGrath;

Eyes Like Mine by Sheena Kamal;

The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell (Kindle pre order 5/10/17);

My Absolute Darling by Gabriel Tallent (Kindle pre order 29/8/17);

The Mountain by Luca D’Andrea;

The Mitford Murders by Jessica Fellowes (Kindle pre order 14/9/17);

The Collector by Fiona Cummins; (soooooooooooo excited about this one and so new there are no Amazon links yet!!! :D) If you don’t know why I’m excited and haven’t yet read Rattle (and if not why not?) then you can order it here and get yourself ready for next year. Did I mention I love that book? I do. I was so excited I may have actually started reading this in bed instead of the books I should have been reading. Oops. (Sorry – not sorry). All the eeeeeeeeeks and squeeeeeeeeals.

The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn (pre order January 2018);

Consent by Leo Benedictus (pre order 1/2/18);

Perfect Remains by Helen Fields;

Anatomy of a Scandal by Sarah Vaughn (Kindle pre order 11/1/18);

Strange Magic by Syd Moore

So all in all a great book haul of a weekend. And I visited Betty’s and treated myself to a belated birthday cake. Go me.

Now the weekend wasn’t without it’s down moments too but least said, soonest mended so lets move on.

Now as if all that wasn’t brilliant enough, before I left for Harrogate I received some absolutely stonkingly fantabulous book post from the wonderful Louise Ross (LJ Ross). Now I knew I’d be getting the signed book as I won it in a charity auction, as well as the chance to be a named character. But I wasn’t expecting to receive a DCI Ryan series mug as well. I actually collect mugs as well as books so this couldn’t have been a better gift for me and will take pride of place in the collection.

And, totally not book related but my new cushions and mugs turned up. How fab are these?

The McMoos by Jennifer Hogwood – You totally need to check out the website.

Just the one book order this week (just as well) which was Bad Sister by Sam Carrington. It’s due out on 5th October and I can’t wait to get my mitts on a copy.

Just the one Netgalley this week too (just as well) which was The Good Sister by Jess Ryder. It’s due for release on 16th August.

I see a theme here. Kind of reminiscent of my life. I have one of each. I’ll let them fight over which is which 😉

I also received an ARC of I Know A Secret by Tess Gerritsen, the brand new Rizzoli and Isles novel which is due out on 10th August.

Now I am hoping that all of these exciting things I’ve been rambling about above will distract you from my reading tally which stands at the grand total of 2. Lorraine at The Book Review Cafe will be laughing at me this week given her mammoth reading achievements and rightly so. If only I’d saved the bloody Mr Men books… When I say reading tally it was one read, one listen as I only completed one book and then listened to an audio on the way too and from Harrogate. Failed blogger I am then (this is not news but now we have evidence).

Books I have read

Red Is The Colour by Mark L. Fowler

A GRIPPING NEW POLICE THRILLER Bullying. Corruption. Murder.

It is the summer of 2002. The corpse of a 15 year old boy, who has been missing for thirty years, is discovered in Stoke-on-Trent. The city is on the cusp of change and Chief Superintendent Berkins wants the case solved quickly.

DCI Jim Tyler has arrived from London under a cloud, moving to Staffordshire to escape his past. He is teamed up with DS Danny Mills to investigate the case, but there is tension between the detectives.

When the dead boy’s sister comes forward, describing a bright, solitary child, she points a finger at the school bullies, which puts important careers at stake.

Then one of the bullies is found brutally murdered and when Tyler and Mills dig deeper they start to suspect a cover-up.

What is the connection between the death of a schoolboy in 1972 and this latest killing?

With the pressure building, and the past catching up with DCI Tyler, will he and DS Mills be able to put aside their differences in order to catch a cold-blooded killer?

I’m reviewing this for the blog tour next Monday but I have to be honest and say that this was a really well observed look at childhood bullying an the people who were involved, both directly and indirectly. With a thirty year old victim it is a tough ask for newly transferred DCI Jim Tyler to bring the killer to justice in this new police procedural from Mark L. Fowler and Bloodhound Books. It is released tomorrow, 25th July, and you can buy a copy here.

…

You Don’t Know Me by Imran Mahmood

It’s easy to judge between right and wrong – isn’t it?

Not until you hear a convincing truth.

Now it’s up to you to decide…

An unnamed defendant stands accused of murder. Just before the Closing Speeches, the young man sacks his lawyer, and decides to give his own defence speech.

He tells us that his barrister told him to leave some things out. Sometimes, the truth can be too difficult to explain, or believe. But he thinks that if he’s going to go down for life, he might as well go down telling the truth.

There are eight pieces of evidence against him. As he talks us through them one by one, his life is in our hands. We, the reader – member of the jury – must keep an open mind till we hear the end of his story. His defence raises many questions… but at the end of the speeches, only one matters:

Did he do it?

Oh my life. What an intriguing novel. Taking courtroom drama to brand new heights this is a story which will not only challenge your idea of right and wrong but also the whole idea of how courtroom dramas should be. Set as a series of court transcripts and told in the defendants voice the author takes you on a journey and you as reader are set to act as jury. I listened to the Audio book of this and I have to say it was absolutely perfect in this format. My review will follow but you can order a copy of the book here.

…

That is all. Thankfully I was fully prepared on the blogging front so I had posts everyday.

#BlogTour Guest Post: Dying Art by Malcolm Hollingdrake

#Booklove: Katherine Sunderland

#BlogTour Review: The Other Twin by Lucy V Hay

Review: Blind Justice by M.A. Comley

#BlogTour Review: Her Deadly Secret by Chris Curran

#BookLove: Jane Cable

#GuestReview: Another You by Jane Cable

…

The week ahead is a bit of a mixture. I start with a review, then some #Booklove with Helena Fairfax, followed by blog tours for The Marriage Pact by Michelle Richmond, and then The Unquiet Dead by Ausma Zehanat Khan with a very special Author Q&A in between, rounding out the week with more #Booklove with Jack Steele and another blog tour, this time The Lost Wife by Anna Mansell.

Hope you have a brilliant week all. I’m reading all day today before going back to work and some more training tomorrow. Boo hiss to that one but someone has to do it. Going to Chester Zoo on Saturday so think of all the animal/nature pics I can share with you next week. You can’t wait can you? Hope they still have the Pudu’s and the Kimodo Dragon. I love them!!!

See you next Monday.

P.S. since penning this post Sunday evening I have been online and preordered three books from Goldsboro (it’s now Sunday bedtime). We’ll just ignore those, pretend I ordered them after midnight and I’ll fill you all in next week 😂

Rewind, recap: weekly update w/e 23/07/17 Man. Where to even begin this week. Well. I will start by saying my reading achievements were next to none.

#BookLove #Rewind Recap #Weekly Round UP

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twistedcurlgirl · 8 years ago

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My Entitlement Switch

I will start from the very beginning. It seems to me the best place to start. If I told you only of the moment my ego kicked in shouting ‘’PRIVILEGED WHITE WOMAN WITH USA PASSPORT COMING THROUGH,’’ I think you would miss my evolvement getting there.

So here we go from the tippy top.

As you may or may not know there have been recent restrictions made on which electronic devices can fly into the UK and USA from certain countries, one being Turkey where I was flying from to London to meet my sister for the weekend.

Having read this update, my Kindle was out and ready for questioning. I start chatting with others in line, as I usually do, to discuss our mutual uncertainty of our varying electronics. ‘’This’ll pass the 19 cm long test, right?’’ I finally ask a British Airways desk attendant with what appeared to be a plastic board for us to test our items. I also noticed the plastic stated ‘’NO ROUND POWERBANKS’’ quite boldly. ‘’Sorry, no, just a smidge too long. You’ll have to check it.’’ Now there was something here, a little voice that said, ‘’Hey mister, check again - I am not paying for a checked bag just for this new law and there is no post office at the airport to send it back to my apartment in Istanbul soooooooooooo ...’’

It was the long so-oo that caught my compassion and I quieted myself before saying or thinking anything else that might encourage resentment. ‘’Hmm,’’ I looked around, ‘’anyone already checking a back I could slip this into?’’ A few said they would but couldn’t because they were already unsure of their carry-on weight; although, I heard ‘’never take something from another passenger’’ echoing through my head and realized there could be another reason no one was volunteering for this quest. Until 2 women traveling with many bags said they would ‘’of course’’ take it. I handed it off and let them try ahead of me at the ticket counter. However, realizing they hadn’t paid for luggage prior they moved to the side to repack and I moved up in line leaving them to sort ‘their’ luggage issue without hesitation.

The representative questioned why I gave them my kindle and went on to explain she’d check my luggage because of the new restrictions. ‘’Yeah, as long as it has no round powerbanks you’ll be fine.’’ I lied, and put the one that was fully charged from my purse into the checked bag. It was within the new policy that anyone who bought their ticket before the new law was in place would be able to check a bag FOR FREE. My mouth said, ‘’Oh, that’s wonderful, I will grab my kindle and come back to check this pack,’‘ but my ego said ‘‘THAT’s more like it,’’ and stuck it’s nose in the air. I am not sure it came back down because here is what happened next.

‘‘Right ladies, thanks so much for taking the Kindle but they will check my bag for free so I will take it back and do that.’‘ ‘‘Oh good news for you darling, here is the Kindle and could you possibly take this as your carry-on now that you don’t have one? It seems we are over on weight and are only allowed 1 carry-on each.’‘ ‘‘Of course, just get it tagged?’‘ I said, presuming obviously they wouldn’t expect me to go through security with their bag. ‘‘Well ya, but also go through the check point with us. Oh, and have you any money? We don’t have a credit card or enough money to check these bags on us so we are at a lost as to what we should do.’‘ I didn’t have the money on me, but I did have a credit card that I didn’t offer up. After I got the carry-on luggage tagged, I returned and quickly excused myself to use the toilet and get a coffee before take off. They understood completely and I headed for security, without their carry-on. I slipped away, and even though my heart wanted to help more - I could have and didn’t. This is when I probably should have noticed all my rights & wrongs were shifting around.

The line was quick and painless as now I only had a purse with me. A couple of the friendlies from the line before and I started chatting. After we got through, we looked at the flight board and decided we all needed a coffee after all the electronics hiccups we each had. When checking out, I offered to pay for the lot of drinks, having adapted to Turkish hospitality I felt it only right to act as hostess. ‘’No, I couldn’t possibly allow that. However, your kindness has been noted and karma accrued.’’ We giggled it off, but I wonder now if that karma only paid off the debt I’d just withdrew for the free checked bag and leaving those kind women to sort themselves without my financial or moral support.

Last matter with the Aussies, a trade of local vs tourist. One of them needed a Turkish stamp, which I happened to have in my wallet and gladly offered. I also mentioned there was no post office in the airport. I promised to mail it when I returned to İstanbul on Monday, but only having the tiny purse with me I encouraged him to give it to me when we collected our baggage in London. İn return he asked if I needed help where I was heading once we landed. Grateful for the information alone, he also offered up his Oyster Card - I just couldn’t believe my luck. Here it is again - My Luck. As in the luck I deserve and own rightfully because I have been kind.

Together we go to gate and find the 2 women being searched. ‘’They let us through with all 3 bags, but now they are taking issue with them,’’ one said to me as I took a seat. Once they finished they sat down and whispered a bit about needed to reach their nephew and brother to pick them up and bring the funds for the nice man who came to their rescue and paid for the extra baggage at the ticket counter. ‘’I can help!’’ Eager to make up for leaving them stranded I handed them my phone with unlimited data and insisted they use it to call their family in London. ‘’Phew, that was a karmic close one,’’ I thought to myself.

Passing them to enter the plane, I overheard one last call for my salvation. ‘‘Only 1 carry-on bag ma’am.’‘ Before I realize my own actions, I have scooped up the 3rd carry-on and thanked the women for watching it for me as I went to the toilet. Redemption! We all get situated on the plane and thank each other for everything we tried to do to get each other (and all our stuff) on the flight.

Once aboard, a new set of twists emerged. For starters, the Captin informed us that we would be waiting an additional 20 minutes or so before take off as someone had been removed from the flight, but they needed time to remove his baggage as well.

I found my seat and though the 2 friends I had yet to make moved out of the way for me to take it, I had to pee first and made them sit back down.

Finally ready, I sit down and take off, we all introduce ourselves. ‘’Right, so I can already tell you’re nice but possibly dreadfully irritating and likely to cause me great grief on this flight,’’ said the chap, Sam from London. ‘’Ah-ha, he is just annoyed you had to pee. He doesn’t understand we are women, of course we will pee before the flight,’’ said the dentist, Elif from İstanbul. ‘’Welp, this should be fun,’’ said my ego, Maggie from NYC.

Just in time to break our awkward introductions a man starts to search the overheads, feverishly looking for his bag. An attendant followed behind him and dropped a hand-carved wooden tavla board on a woman’s head. ‘’Oh dear, look what I’ve done. I’ve dropped this on your head. Are you alright? I am so sorry, I will get you some ice. Really, I do apologize about that. On the bright side, he’s found his bag. It’s quite a nice bag, actually .. soft. Not like the hard one I dropped on your head.”

At this point the 3 of us are dying laughing and bonding over the fact that we all found this other person’s injury delightfully amusing.

'’Look look, her she comes with the ice.’’ ‘’ Right, we will make a report about the ice,’’ said the flight attendant.“Could I give back the ice and not report this?” said the injured. At this point the 3 of us as well as the rows beind us were all in hysterics. ‘’We’ll fill it out you’ll just sign, but we won’t force you to sign. We aren’t United Airlines - we won’t force you to do anything,” which encouraged many more chuckles followed by a long awkward silence which was finally broken by Sam, ‘’Are are we in a rom-com? Is Hugh Grant gonna come pop out the back?’’ This might have gotten more laughs had the Captin not then come on AGAIN to inform us of an additional delay, a medical issue. Good thing for them we were delayed for the baggage removal, unless of course it was the stress of waiting that sent this passenger into their emergency.

Nothing tickled me more than the Captin making the announcement to switch off laptops and put our tray tables away TWICE before take off while we all reminded each other of the new laws and the fact that we couldn't bring them on the plane, much less switch them off now.

‘‘Right, well, I wasn’t planning on drinking on this flight, but I think we better,’‘ said Sam, and once we were airborn (1.5 hours delayed) that’s exactly what we did.

Now the flight itself was perfect, at least that is what I remember from our cocktail party in the sky. It was only upon my entrance to the UK where my trip picked up any turbulence.

‘‘Oh Maggie, where is your landing card?’‘ Elif asked, wide-eyed and serious. ‘‘What landing card? I wasn’t given anything on the flight.’‘ ‘‘Ya, you definitely need one, here I carry extra and here is a pen,’‘ Sam offered. Those two were true buds now. I knew I had filled the card out incorrectly, I crossed something out and wrote next to it the correct answer, but I had no idea this would mean .. well just keep up because this part goes fast.

The line was moving quite slowly, and I noticed a family in a waiting area being questioned by one of the customs agents. ‘’Why don’t you have return tickets though? How long do you plan to stay? Why are you here?’’ were just a few of the questions I overheard. ‘’Well, we are from Syria and I am going to try to get a job here.’’ She said it so innocently, but I knew she’d just signed her own deportation paperwork.

I was next in line. The agent I saw in the waiting area came to booth 28, a significant number for me and I saw it as divine luck I was in store to get it. ‘’Here I go,’’ I giggled to Elif, who had been warning me to be respectful (and sober) to the agents. ‘’Don’t be nice even, make no jokes Maggie, I am serious.’’

‘‘Right well I see you either couldn’t be bothered to fill out your landing card or you are a total idiot,’‘ Customs Agent 565 announced loudly. I said nothing at first, just handed him my passport. Elif, already through, waited for me on the other side, noticing my smile had been wiped clean.

‘‘Are you dumb as well? I said you didn’t fill out the landing card,’‘ he shouted as he ripped up the one I had filled out (albeit with one mistake).

‘’Hey! Wait, what? I know I crossed something out but I did fill that out.’’ This was Strike 1, defending myself.

‘‘Why are you here?'’

‘’I am here to visit my sister for the weekend.’’

‘’So when do you leave?’’

‘’Monday morning.’’

‘’Show me your return ticket.’’

‘’We took off nearly 2 hours late and as you probably know the airline now won’t let us travel with powerbanks.’’ Strike 2, dead phone.

‘’How is that my problem? If you can’t prove you have a return ticket, why should I let you in the country?’’

This was it - this was the moment I heard it. ‘’WHITE WOMAN WITH USA PASSPORT! THAT’S WHY YOU SHOULD LET ME IN!’’ Of course instead I just recited his badge number to him, told him he shouldn’t be treating ‘me’ this way and asked if there was someone else I could talk to. Just then he noticed Elif waiting and I motioned for just 1 minute to her with a smirk. Strike 3. ‘’İf you and your friend think this is a joke, I will show you it isn’t. Come with me.’’

He took me to the same area where he had been questioning the family earlier. There was also a man bleeding from his head, a mother with a crying baby and a small boy who looked to be on his own. ‘’Take a seat,’’ 565 said. I sat down in shock that I would be put in ‘this’ area with ‘these’ people. ‘’Don’t sit there, sit over there,’’ 565 motioned toward the injured man. ‘’No thank you, I am fine here.’’ ‘’I said move,’’ 565 shouted. ‘’I said no,’’ I situated in my seat. No longer alone he quickly changed his tone with me and decided not to push it further. ‘’I will be back in 10 minutes once your passport clears.’’

I was only in this waiting area about 15 minutes before I started to complain. ‘’He said 10 minutes,’’ I said to the female agent in the area with us. ‘’I shouldn’t talk to you,’’ she actually said that more than once. ‘’That little boy has asked you for water several times, you won’t do anything about that?’’ This was the first time she responded to me with anything else.‘

’Actually I didn’t understand him because he doesn’t speak English.”

“So now that you know you’ll get him some water?”

“I would do, but I am not allowed to leave this area and they have forgotten to give me a walky-talkie today.’’

‘’Excuse me? They forgot? Like that other agent is forgetting about me in here? İs this normal? Do you even know why he put me in here?’’

I saw her starting to squirm in her seat. Finally, after another 10 minutes passed, she was able to flag down another agent to make requests to. He came and brought the boy water which is when I took the opportunity to state my case.

“Hello, I’ve been forgotten about. Actually, I was never really told why I am in this area in the first place. That officer, there, put me here to make a point, but I have actually done nothing wrong and I would like to be released immediately.”

I spoke quite loudly too, you know, the way one does when they are trying to make the one they are speaking to uncomfortable. Why I chose this position against any authority figure at all can only be explained by privilege. If I didn’t recognize it before, I sure as hell know what it looks like now. It looks a whole lot like waiving a USA Passport around, making demands and knowing it will end the way I want it to. Which unfortunately for my higher consciousness, is exactly what happened.

Customs Agent 8336 brought me my passport and took me directly to another agent. The agent asked me the exact same questions as Agent 565, but accepted my answers and stamped me into the country. Agent 8336 apologized to me and led me towards the exit.

Maybe it was the fact that I had already missed the play where my sister and I were supposed to meet. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the time in purgatory pumping through my vains. Maybe it was the Entitlement Switch not shutting off - but do you know what I said to this agent instead of “thank you”?

“It’s not enough. I have missed the play. My phone is dead and the people who were helping get where I was going are long-gone. I want to make a complaint. I want to talk to someone and fill out paperwork on what that agent just put me through.”

He left for a moment and returned with a pamphlet. “Here, here is how we accept complaints. Write it down when you’re calm. We have a way of tracing every incidence here, no matter how much time has gone by.”

So there it was, I got to leave with a way to complain just 40 short minutes after I got into the line in the first place. And you know what? I re-lived this 40 minutes the entire 1.5 hrs it took to get to my sister where I thought for sure I would breakdown in her arms. I didn’t. Instead I said, “I am traumatized but looking at you now, I can’t do anything but smile.”

I waited in the lobby during the second half of the show, and talked to my sweet Turkish guy who tried his best to put things in perspective for me. Though I couldn’t yet hear all the truth behind it, one thing he said resonated. “Honey, you didn’t deserve it, but Cathy & London don’t either so don’t ruin your time there with her. If you enjoy your time, that agent loses with you.”

He was right, of course. So while I nursed my day-hang with water, I tried hard to let the experience go. At least until I could get my thoughts together and fill in that pamphlet.

After the show got out, I met my sister and her co-worker where I vocalized a bit more as we walked toward a pub for bites and booze. I said I tried, I didn’t say I succeeded.

“Do you want a pint?” Cathy suggested as I sat down.

“No thanks, just water. I’m so thirsty.” There is was, the first wave of guilt. I am thirsty and just like that I am going to get ice water from the tap for free. Where is the justice? That little boy might still be in that waiting area.

A while later, my headache started to clear and I caught another wave. I remembered the wounded man, the one I didn’t want to sit next to when the customs agent barked at me to move. How was his head? Why didn’t I care about his head before?

I didn’t need a third wave to see it now. “You guys, I didn’t want to be in the waiting area or lumped into any category with ‘those people’.” “Who Maggie?” “People who the Customs Agents were deeming illegal, I guess?” I said this aloud, but what I thought and what I am sure my smart sister heard was, “People who are less privileged.”

It didn’t take me much longer to come to that awareness fully formed as an apology to my own heart. Not only had I outrageously behaved towards a government official who rightfully detained me for not having proof of a return ticket AND incorrectly filled out a landing card, I had also dismissed the entire country - hell the whole island - for something 1 representative “did to me.” Where was I, my higher consciousness, my compassion, my memory of the many friends I have had detained at airports recently either denied entry or deported from Turkey. Many of which hold UK or USA citizenship (NOT THE POINT), but I felt even set apart from them? Who did I think I was? Who do I think I am now that I realized my human is not always so awake.

I have more work to do around this, because try as I might to not repeat this offensive attitude towards my fellow man, I won’t know where my entitlement switch is until it clicks on again. Right now I know it exists within a combination of my anger, time sensitivity and 3 Proseccos. For everyone’s sake, I hope it does happen, I have a lot more to learn.

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