Waking up early from night terrors. (my girlfriend's abandoned me in a bizarre tiny NYC hotel room, I have someone else's face, my lips are bleeding, skin peeling like a sunburn, and I don't know what's going on)
Make some black coffee.
Write some stories.
Make some black coffee.
Write some stories.
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Plus, it's always a bonus when my husband gives me that look from across the room when I yell, "No, George Washington, don't attack ME with the harpoon gun! Fine, I'll ride the goat! See how you like that!"