Just a bit

over ten minutes left.  Already posted three times.  Thinking about tonight, maybe taking myself out, having some wine when home, early bed so I can try to run in the morning rather than at lunch.  My birthday, 5 days from where I sit. Shit… how.  Why does time fuck with me like this.  Who cares.  Keep writing.  Finish your goddamn book already, would you Mikey?

Last sips of the latte tasting funny.  I laugh at myself.  Why not. You think I’m gong to let this goddamn cup ruin the day I’m having, what I’m feeling after that presentation of the company’s platform that I as only able to access late last week for the first time?  NO… This high will be enjoyed.