So, I purged #cherrypiecure

posted by susan-oh-susan / march 18 at 11:23 pm / uncategorized / 21 comments

I went to Safeway and bought canned cherries, and also more coconut flakes, and some other things. And I went through the self-check out very quickly.

Reza wasn’t there, but I didn’t look for him.

Ok, of course I did.

Went home and made cherry pie. And macaroons.

Googled Iranian dishes on the Internet.

Made some notes on potential recipes.

Cleaned out the master bedroom.

Like, purged the master bedroom.

Everything that belonged to John, or reminded me of John, that he didn’t take, I put in garbage bags, and on the front porch.

Everything that was mine that reminded me of the lumpy dumpy small life Susan I am, I put in garbage bags and put in the trunk of the car. Then the back seat of the car.

I tore the sheets off the bed. And all the pillow shams. The curtains off the window.

All the boring, boring art off the walls.

Into the trunk.

I didn’t even sort my make-up or toiletries in the bathroom. Just threw everything, except the soap and shampoo, into the garbage.

I don’t know why.

Just because.

I took John’s nightstand out of the bedroom too and put it on the porch along with the garbage bags.

It was heavy. I hurt my back, a little.

I sat on the couch and wondered what I was doing

Then I sat on the front porch, on the nightstand, and smoked a cigarette.

Wondered if Tyler had left any pot behind.

Looked in his room.

Not very hard, you know, just on his desk and in the top drawer.

But he didn’t.

Thought about texting him to ask him.

Thought—that’s a bad idea. Don’t do it.

Went back to the master bedroom.

Wondered if I should get a new bed. Would new sheets be enough?

Took the car to Value Village. I hadn’t been in years… dropped everything off.

Wandered the aisles. Thought about buying new-used sheets there, but couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I mean, I know I could wash and disinfect them… but the whole point of this exercise, I realized, was that I wanted something completely new.

I went to Marcella’s store.

Came home with new sheets.

Also a promise from her to come over soon to help me paint the bedroom.

And an offer for a job.

Which was a pity offer, stemming from my last blog post, because she already has an assistant.

About whom she complains all the time. Which makes me think she wouldn’t be such a great boss.

But it made me think… I could do it. I could get a job. Doing something.

God, even being a cashier at Safeway.


21 comments on So, I purged:

BeautifulThingsEveryday: You. Are. Not. Going. To. Be. A. Cashier. At. Safeway.

susan-oh-susan: I’m not. I wouldn’t be any good at it. And… well. Anyway. I’m not. It wasn’t even a thought.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: And I am a great boss.

FemmeFataleFun: What about doing something like what I do, Susan? Not with Passion Through Play and Toys—I mean, you’d need to get a little more comfortable with sex toys before you did that. But… oh, something like Pampered Chef? Or Tupperware? From what you’ve said, you keep a beautiful house—and you’re this baking and cooking machine. What do you think?

ilikeherbooty-full: What’s wrong with you bitches? The woman has a calling. It’s to make me, and the stock boy, cherry pie. Every day. For the rest of her life. Susan, you need to hit up bakeries. Or caterers. Places like that. And whatever you do, don’t work for that menopausal cougar. Ugh.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: I am not menopausal. Yet, anyway. Or a cougar. Where the hell do you get that from?

ilikeherbooty-full: How old are you?

BeautifulThingsEveryday: Forty-five.

ilikeherbooty-full: How old is, what’s his face, Raoul?

susan-oh-susan: Raoul’s gone, Jerome. Her new guy’s name is Brad, and he’s fifty-three. And Raoul was at least forty.

ilikeherbooty-full: Oh. I thought he was a boy toy.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: Assumptions, boy.

ilikeherbooty-full: What about your assumptions about me?

ilikeherbooty-full: Also, slut.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: Sorry, you’re criticizing my proclivities? I’ve checked out your blog, little boy. Tits. Ass. Most of them surgically enhanced.

ilikeherbooty-full: Also, cars.

ilikeherbooty-full: And I like my women big. What’s wrong with that? Up top, down low, all around. Natural’s best, but if mother nature didn’t provide…

BeautifulThingsEveryday: Wow. Every time you say something, it’s like you dig a deeper hole. Not seeing a lot of depth, you know.

ilikeherbooty-full: I would surprise you. Amazon.

FemmeFataleFun: I’ve said it before, the two of you need a room. Susan, look into Pampered Chef.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: Or come work for me. Anytime, ok?

Find out more: Cherry Pie Cure: Cast of Characters and More

(including fabulous paper)


PS A Table of Contents of the Cherry Pie Cure/Susan’s Writing Cure Blog posts can be found at the Cherry Pie Cure landing page.

Feature image source:

About mjanecolette

Writer. Reader. Angster. Reformed Bohemian (not). Author of the erotic romance TELL ME, the erotic tragedy (with a happy ending) CONSEQUENCES (of defensive adultery), the award-winning rom-com (she's versatile) CHERRY PIE CURE, and TEXT ME, CUPID--a (slightly dirty) love story for 21st century adults who don't believe in love... but want it anyway. A sought-after speaker and presenter, Colette is also the author of the Dirty Writing Secrets Series, which includes the non-fiction collection of essays ROUGH DRAFT CONFESSIONS: not a guide to writing and selling erotica and romance but full of inside inside anyway, 101 FLIRTY WRITING PROMPTS TO SEDUCE YOUR MUSE, and ORGANIZED CREATIVE. She's also the curator of the fab YYC Queer Writers anthologies Queer Christmas in Cowtown, Screw Chocolate, and A Queer Summer Night's in Cowtown. Releasing Spring 2020: CUPID IN MONTE CARLO.

One comment

  1. Pingback: Cherry Pie Cure–the real time Blog Edition | m jane colette

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