Oh wait, Day 24 is now done. BONUS!!!
So Day 25 calls for a 3rd person perspective on a memory that Brian has. My philosophy is that well I can do that. In fact let me give you a look at yesterday.
Write about a memory you have but describe it using the third person. Use as many sensory images (sights, sounds, textures, etc) as you can. Don’t use “I” or “me” unless you include dialogue.
(Pan in on Brian sitting at his text, happily reading some diabetes related blogs, when someone else enters his office.)
Brian is asked, "Do you have a moment, I need to talk to you about something?" The immediate response is in the affirmative.
After relaying the news/story or gossip, looking at Brian's face there is some shock, acknowledgement, and if one is really good about reading his body language the look of, (#$$@#$@#$*@#$*#@* @#$*@#$* #$@$*@#!!!!!!!!) Is all over his face. The previously warm office has gotten a little colder. The melody of the birds singing, has gone from musical to a shrill screeching.
He looks calm, he seems to be taking the news ok, but that is not what is going on. In his head, Brian very well may be thinking about other less panic inducing things, yet he can't be. The forgotten blog stares at him from his desktop as Brian starts to ask questions. Answers are given and he starts to look a little more calm. The phone rings, Brian looks at the person in his office and at the phone. Looks at the person again and says, please I am expecting a phone call hold on one second. You hear Brian talking to the receptionist, torn between taking the phone call that needs to be taken or continue the conversation with the person in his office.
Finally, Brian makes the decision and says, "I need to take this call. Please give me a moment." Now the second weird conversation of the day happens. This one is even more bizarre than the first conversation. One can see Brian looking around trying to figure out how to answer these questions, almost looking at his office window contemplating an escape...... Yet there is no escape, so he finishes the phone call and moves back to the person in his office.
As odd as it seems, the phone call has managed to calm Brian down a little bit. He sees that he can handle what he was just told. Granted if one were to look at his face or read his mind you would still see, (%^&%*%$%^$%!^@$^%$#$^!) going through his head. But he seems fine, at least for now.
Brian can take this news like a champ, because weirder things have happened. No matter the stress he faces in real life, he knows that if he can handle his life as person with type 1 diabetes, he can handle anything thrown at him. Even if he wants to jump out of his office window.