Breathing the Fresh Air of a Four-Day Furlow

No Telling

The last essay (for now) is graded. National Novel Writing Month is a sweet flicker in the rear-view mirror. Final exams begin on Tuesday. Somebody pour me a drink.

My brains are scrambled and my eyesight is shot. I’ve eaten unhealthy food from bags out of machines for too long and haven’t had a minute to attend to this poor blog. I’ve got four days to regroup and come out swinging, all my faculties in place and such.

I’m having a little sushi tomorrow and a long walk. I might even scare some of the dust off of this desk and become human again. That’s the plan, anyway.

Oh, I have so many stories to tell you guys. You just don’t know.