Losing my cellie



Steve and I always joked that we were cellies during this quarantine. We were perfect cellies. We got along really well. We worked out at rec time. Even "got a little" after lights-out. πŸ˜‰

But, my cellie's been paroled. 

Steve goes back to work tomorrow, and I'm trying not to freak out about it. I know he's nervous about it, too, so I'm trying not to think about that, also.

I'm just praying and trying to stay positive that all of the new precautions in place will protect him. But I know there are still going to be so many idiots not wearing masks, that he'll be put in harm's way no matter what.

Aside from all the safety issues with Steve going back to work, I'm trying not to dwell on what it means here at home.
All dog walking trips will rely on me. Up and down three flights of stairs. Brodee and Finn have to be walked separately because they're too big for just one person to walk. Too many other crazy dogs at this complex.
I know the dogs have gotten used to Steve being home as much as I have. There'll be an adjustment period, I'm sure.

But you know what all of this means? This means that I have to get Steve home full-time faster than ever. That's the only reason I write; so Steve won't have to work and we can live a happy life together.

Okay, Universe, here you have it!

BEFORE THE END OF THIS YEAR, I WILL REACH SUCCESS!

I thank everyone for their support thus far, but it has to be thrown into overdrive.

Have you read every single one of my books? If not, that's how it gets started. One step at a time. One book at a time. One mention to a friend at a time.

My AMAZON page.

Thank you! 

Stay safe. MASK UP! Protect others! πŸ’“

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