In retrospect, I’m beginning to think my whole life has been a series on consequences of my allowing others to define me. I admit the fault is my own. If I were as strong as I have hoped I would be, I would never have allowed all the grief thrown my way. I started taking notes on a long forgotten project I promised myself I would work on. I’m using these notes to transform them into a graphic novel script. I hope that JD doesn’t mind the sudden shift in genre. I texted him on Friday during the birthday celebration to ask if he’d still be interested. Apparently the guy’s going in for surgery. Pesky gall bladders. Seems like everyone has theirs failing them.…