If you look really closely, you'll see a binder clipped stack of papers under the table. No, that's not the President's job bill, it's the manuscript in its many iterations.
I'm on a self-imposed deadline to get this work in progress finished. October 11. It's going to be finished come hell or high levels of anxiety. Okay, so the high levels of anxiety are a given.
In the meantime, I'm falling in and out of love, fighting fleas that don't play bass, hanging laundry on the line and scheming to be part of Occupy Wall Street. I might have to settle for Occupy Stonebrook Drive. Fuck. Because I'd rather drive to Chicago or NYC than deal with the lunacy of Atlanta traffic, that's why.
What have you got up your sleeve?
Randal gives me nightmares.
UPDATED: Geoffrey is defined like this.
UPDATED MORE! Summer and the amazing ponyholder!