1. Complain about anything in particular. Wow. No wonder I'm dizzy.
2. OD on coffee, which I think is finally eating a hole through my stomach. Plus for the past two nights I only got about 3-4 hrs of sleep.--so much for guzzling Seattle's Best at 11:00 p.m. every night. I did indulge in a double cafe mocha, though. God forbid my gall bladder should feel left out.
3. Have to clean anything, cook anything, or do one single constructive thing other than write.
Which brings us to what I *did* do today:
Completed 3200 words of The Dogfather. Totally unplanned, totally out of the blue (please do not use the O word in my presence). The hardest part is hauling myself out of the head of a smart, college-bound seventeen-year-old girl and into the head of a not-very-bright fifteen-year-old boy stuck in the eighth grade. I don't know where this thing is headed, if anywhere. Time will tell.
In the meantime, Shawna's in New England--being read! :)
Now there's nothing for me to do except wait...
...and wait...
...to find out if Shawna is HERE:
--or HERE:
Magic or not, Shawna'd never wear those shoes.
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