Last day of the long wine-whirled weekend. So, all day today, what I elect what I would if I only had one day of life left, WRITE. WRITE WRITE WRITE. Not going to be much wine today, if any, even over at Katie’s house, with all the cops wagoning around, salivating over DUI tallies. Are they in competition with each other? Don’t care. Not wasting letters on badges. Anyway, just a little typing, then to the Composition notebook. Don’t feel like I can ever really freewrite with this little monster. It’s quirky system, button hive, mean screen. I’m retreating to true page. Holding on to 2day. Time will have an exhausting scuffle. With me. Today. An onward.