trying not to hyperventilate from actually taking steps towards getting my stories beyond the damn computer screen. I don't think they make antiperspirant strong enough.

This is my town:
http://ping.fm/yBAPb

This is me having a deadline and trying to pretend that I don't. Why is my house dirty only when I have a deadline? Why is TV only interesting when I have a deadline? Why is picking lint off my sweaters a priority only when I have a deadline?

Rain. Really? Really? 'Cause I'm just wondering where that little thing called Indian Summer we're supposed to get went. Note to God: Um, what?