Now, if that statement doesn’t register on the Pathetic Meter the darn
thing is broken and needs a swift kick up its…
*stops, clears throat*
*gives the recently popped Prozac
time to soak into the bones*
Yeah, ok.
*breathes deeply and then sighs*
You get it. I get it. And we’re all wincing in embarrassment. Shall we
just move on and not discuss my lingering peculiarities any longer?
Thank you.
On tap for today other than the mad (and I do mean mad) dash for Pringles is the galley proof for “Ravenscar.” I’ve
successfully put that off as long as possible, so it will be done today. The fact that I’ve built this whole thing up
into some kind of monstrous, psyche-damaging task we’ll simply file with Frank (specter
of imminent failure lounging on the end of my couch, spitting crumpet crumbs at
the television) and the Pringle-thing. No
further discussion is required here, right? Right.
On a positive and completely sane note, I got huge amounts of plotting
done on “The Six Brothers” Revolutionary War-era project. I’m surprisingly and
very pleasantly pleased with all the twists and turns I’ve managed to find for
each of the brothers so far. This story could be very, very good. *grins hopefully*
Alright, I’m out of here.
The potato chip aisle is calling me.
Might even stop by the dog treat aisle and see what’s on sale for my
four-legged, 15 pounds of fury.
I tell you, if my life gets any more exciting…
*chuckles*
Until tonight…
Chloe
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