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Hangover Sunday.

hangoverGosh. It’s just like being back in college. –Minus making waffles in the dining hall at 11 am, starting a food fight, making sculpture out of whatever is still on my tray when the fruit salad stops flying,  and then going back up to my room to smoke out the window and pop Tylenol while I read the latest anthro assignment, of course.

Oh, and the lack of any bills to pay, or serious consequences for being an idiot the night before.

Ok, I’ve just depressed myself.

Anyway. It’s coffee and lavash bread with cheese for me instead of waffles, plus Ibuprofen. And reading up on Irish mythology for WIP #5, a completely separate deal from WIP #4, which was my current project until I woke up Monday with the first sentence of a first-person urban fantasy stuck in my head, thought “hell with it”, and started writing. Now here I am with two books clamoring for real estate in my throbbing skull. I promised myself I’d never do this. One book at a time, I said.

But let’s have a little of that old college hell with it attitude, even if it no longer comes with the fortitude to drink a stupid amount of amaretto without consequences. I’ll write them both until one wins out. I’m betting on the UF, since it’s got a much faster pace right off the bat.

To infinity, and beyond!


Quietly, though.

Agh. Maybe I’ll take a bath before I get any farther.