I tweeted earlier I was watching a more seasoned O'Neal do an early version of fantasy football, but I am only half there. I'm looking up bus tickets, realizing most of my book library will perish; be donated. Running isn't going to rescue me. More likely put me in a great deal of hot water. I'm bolting, nevertheless. The last time I traveled must have been 1995, and that was instate, to Grantsville. I wrote Miss Richardson a terse but appropriately mannered note stipulating a lawsuit, slid it under the office door, escalating up, and by Thursday I'll probably be surrounded by HUD truancy officers, if I sleep in.
I got up early this morning. I'll be up early tomorrow, still waiting for chivalry's shield and protection. Mentally I've always plotted my points that way. A version of Jean Luc Picard would materialize and give me some peace.
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