Izzie continues to resist me. She wants to go this way, then that, then back the other way. Remember those old Choose Your Own Adventure Books (if you open the door, turn to page 18; if you turn around and go back to the hotel, turn to page 27, and so on). I was always very reluctant to commit to what might be unwise decisions, and would keep a finger in every page, so I could go back to key points and undo the choices that had led to my untimely death (I also used to make massive charts of which paths led where and all the complex ways in which they intersected, but that’s another book-geek story altogether).
The point here is that I’m writing Izzie much in this style – reluctant to commit to a particular path, depositing an anchor at every structural turning point so I can go back and undo it later. Going back and undoing it later. Redoing it the next day. Undoing it again the next. If Charlie Brown were here, he would say Augggh and take to his bed. I won’t be doing that just yet. What I have done for now is stuck a note to my computer which reads ‘NO! DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT PUTTING THOSE CHAPTERS BACK IN AGAIN. YOU HAVE WASTED ENOUGH TIME ON RED HERRINGS. I’M SERIOUS ABOUT THIS’.
I wonder if I’ll listen to myself.
Alarmingly, I just read over my July 13 entry, where I confidently declared that I was almost clear of the quagmire. Good thing I kept my finger in the page and can go back and pretend that never happened. Can’t I?