I really have had too much caffeine. I’ll be okay, I think.

So, here we are, back around to Monday. Not only is it Monday, but it’s the middle of October, or close enough for me to call it that. Mom’s birthday is next Monday and then mine is a month later. I’ll save my “I can’t believe I’m almost 30” rant for then because it’s going to be interesting. Okay, probably not, but I’ll pretend it will be and the rest of you will humor me because it’s better than most the alternatives.

What are those alternatives, you ask. I’m not sure yet. I really haven’t thought it out. In fact, I’m still riding this strange caffeine high that I induced this morning purely by accident, so thinking is pretty much not happening right now. Instead, there was cleaning and some writing and messing about.

I’m powering through the first section of the new novel. I’ve set up some pieces and I have an awesome fight scene I can’t wait to write. It’s been in my head for a while so getting it onto paper will be good. Then I just need to figure out the ending after beating the shit out of my main character for 50000 words while giving a few tender moments and attempts at recouping or a couple of  minor victories or something.

I might have finished off a short story this morning too. I might have stabbed it to death with finality and moved it to a folder to be examined at a later date. If nothing else, the spread sheet has gotten me to clean up all the desktop icons by getting me to actually finish the stories languishing in an unloved hell of creative apathy. Now they’re getting written or dying, mostly the writing bit save for a couple of horrible entries into the world of fiction. Those died needed deaths.

So, I suppose, the big question is what’s next. I haven’t heard back from the HR guy at Wegman’s yet. I’m inclined to think I won’t. That means I need to poke some other places, refresh some applications and hope I can find something to stave off the impending doom of running out of money before I get a story sold.

Such is life, that weird journey through time that we’re all making. Sometimes alone, sometimes with someone else. Still, it’s as interesting as we want it to be.

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