In loft.  Grateful.  Dinner and entered receipts, watching weather, cold on its way, a “storm” as well maybe.  Tired… not sleeping well last night, today passing fast as there wasn’t much to do or much interacting to be had with the holiday.  Not sure how much writing I’m going to do tonight.

Aware of my writing batting avg… post something, I told myself.  No traffic to the city, and none back.  The holiday, of course.  Thinking about EVERYTHING – the everything, people and why I let some in after they’re been MIA for so long.  Question logged, answer soon or never, I’m thinking about it.

Committed to waking early, either writer or working out.  Slim chance of both.

Tiring… winding down already, 7:18.  Little news, then I think the bedtime of my SE, 8:30-9.

Promise to be more Composed tomorrow, more alive and amplified and animated.

SB from Banshee… good.  Not in the mood for red tonight.  Doing what my mom does, sticking to SB, or any white wine available.  This should be my last glass, not connecting to what I’m sipping.  It’s not bad, just not speaking anything that holds me.