One thousand, logged for day. Now, I’m paused, it feels like. 3:44p, too early for wine. Wouldn’t taste as good as this Diet Coke does now. My office, a mess. Kind of like my writings. But can’t that be a kind of beauty? Like Cubism?
Getting distracted by my accounts. Closing everything, except mikeslognoblog. Definitely need ink and paper after this. No distractions, no threats to progress. Been keeping track of daily word counts for the past month. Wonder where I am, in total.
Where are the pages going, I keep to the Self posing. The eight to my left, that comprise the first vinoLitLetterz issue, neglected by its author. I hate editing...
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