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No, No Wri Mo.

So I am supposed to be writing some kind of novel or something.

And I would be, too. If I could come up with the faintest hint of a starting idea. I'm falling way behind and everybody else I know who has signed up is already writing and doing things and has characters and plots and chapters.

Also, I slept for thirteen hours last night. Maybe if I stopped spending so much time sleeping, I could come up with something to write about.

I have also been at work for 7 hours today. Maybe if I did not spend so much time at work, I could come up with something to write about.

It is also 5:14 and it is pitch black outside. How is anyone supposed to concentrate when it is so dark so early? Maybe if the damned sun would stay up a little longer, I could come up with something to write about.

I am clearly, clearly, incompetent and foolish and I am going to die homeless and penniless and no one will ever love me.

Maybe I can write a novel about that.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on November 5, 2002 5:10 PM.

The previous post in this blog was Surrogate.

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