Somehow, I slept eight hours, and overslept, so this is going to be very short, kittens. I strongly suspect the wordl will continue spinning smoothly in its greasy old tracks. I strongly suspect the brevity will hardly even be noticed.
Here's yesterday's stale Hell, taken several seconds before The Event. Whatever The Event was. There was a great deal of interesting speculation yesterday. A cold-induced panic attack and "a minor coronary artery blockage that passed through" are my two favorites. Oh, here's the photograph:
Yeah, it's a pretty crappy photo. But I recall thinking, "This will be a pretty crappy photo, but if anyone wants a better one, they can fucking take it themselves."
The month is over. I left the House 22 out of 28 days, and every day from the 11th onward. This month, I leave the house every singe day.
I had the best writing day in ages.* I wrote 1,012 words on "Chewing on Shadows." Later, we watched more of House of Cards and Game of Thrones (two titles that look good side to side).
There's more snow coming...
Ann, With Her Father,
*Postscript (2:45 p.m.): I see that is most assuredly a forgetful mistruth. On February 20th I wrote 1,672 words on Chapter 5 of Cherry Bomb.