I was late, again. This time, not my fault - a train stopped the bus. Then we worked our behinds off. We finished one truck and almost finished another. I was the second that did me in - I left hurting and tired. Grocery shopping foregone - I picked up RC Cola from McClure's and a bag of potato chips (my reward for surviving). Paid the rent, then had a dinner of macaroni and cheese and veggies. I deleted email, looked at the text I was to be typing. I went to bed, instead. That was 8 pm. The hip woke me around 10. Oddly, I had no probably with the leg in the afternoon at work - other than not being able to squat. Now the pain in my right elbow is making it very hard to type.
Some things I want to share:
- Stephen King, J.K. Rowling, Brandon Sanderson, & Sarah J. Mass Reveal Their 4 Simplest Secrets to Telling Great Stories & Getting Published Over and Over Again...
- Breaking Out of the Walled Garden of Literature
- Me, Myself, and I: Autotruth and Autofiction in The Red Headed Pilgrim
- Looking for a twist on the whodunit? Two mysteries veer into uncharted territory
- Pence book provides window into tenure as governor
- Forecasts show additional money but slowing economy
That's it. It is 12:32. I cannot type any more. Ibuprofen, here I come.
sch
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