Not a speck.
Not the barest fraction of an iota.
Zilch, ladies and gentlemen. Zilch.
It’s my birthday and I am refusing to feel guilty about it. That
feather in my already overloaded hat of guilt will just have to float away on the
birthday breeze… yeah, well, you get the idea.
Last night, however, I was able to get a little bit of work done on my
Revolutionary War-era project “The Six Brothers.” Admittedly it was only a drop
in the bucket of what needs to be done to get the plot and outline into some
kind of shape, but it was progress.
Speaking of progress, my poor, new Honda Civic is supposed to be put
back together again from the rumble with the Ford Explorer on May 16. Three and
a half weeks without a car… Not a problem! *lol*
Speaking of not a problem, Frank (my specter of imminent failure) has
moved off of my front stoop. The tent he’s pitched in the far corner of my
backyard is a lot less troublesome than the tubby ghoul hanging out at the
front door. (The neighbors were beginning to talk.) At least that’s one thing that’s come out of Writhe’s
delay. A non-corporeal silver lining you might say.
Alright, I’m off to enjoy the last 7 hours of my big day. Enjoy a few
of those hours yourselves, ok?
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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