It is Friday, but really more like Thursday, because I work tomorrow. I look forward to gardening (read: weeding) and going through file cabinet drawers (read:weeding) on Saturday and Sunday. And I greatly look forward to the possibility of sleeping past 7:15 Sunday.
These are inane things to write, but once again, I find myself quite tired, and having spent most of my evening researching literary journals for my poems and reading a chapbook for The Sealey Challenge, I find I have little more to say. For now.
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