Throat's tightening up yet the window stays open. Probably shouldn't have had that blackberry yogurt, I think the clusters aren't clustering like they should. Need more water but don't want to get up. Not that I'm all that comfortable, my butt's kinda numb if truth be known.
My alarm has been set for five hours in the future, but I'll be getting up for the only thing that gets me out a bed--finishing this blasted novel I've spent four years writing. I tell myself four years because it feels like a lie I can swallow, really it's longer but I have no documentation for that. We're getting close, the third draft's a charm.
Feels too early to go to sleep when the Braves could still win this thing in the top of the ninth.
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