All accomplished novelists keep journals, so I'm starting one to record my most macabre and morbid observations. Today was particularly uneventful.Instead of the typical near-death experiences and homicidal monster encounters, I was blackmailed into doing manicures with Enid and Thing. Thankfully, I already owned nail polish in a chilling shade of charcoal. It complements my black soul quite nicely. Turns out "roommate and appendage quality time" isn't synonymous with mind-numbing misery, after all.
