and that was Friday. The 13th, even.

Working, working, working. Slightly manic, in fact, but that’s more yay than uh-oh.

Unfortunately, one of the prime indicators that I’m in a massive manic word-creating mode is that I have an utter disinclination – nay, an actual aversion – to doing any kind of meal-prep. Which, since I abhor most prepackaged frozen dinner things, means a lot of meals this week were of the “stick a spoon in a jar of peanut butter” type. Oh well. Nobody ever died of peanut butter, right?

Started writing a ghost story on-request yesterday, realized this morning that it had not only skipped into Dark but made a full slide into horror’s home base, pulled it back on track, and have it ready for revisions tomorrow.

Then I went to have lunch with a friend, a lovely long lunch filled with industry gossip and actual business-type talk, and the stuff that friends of 20-years-standing talk about (oh lord, yeah it HAS been that long) and the mac-and-cheese with prosciutto and chopped truffles was OMG to die for and I had the leftovers for dinner, so there’s the actual eating today sorted, yeah?

And then I came home to a) stepping on my glasses and making one lens pop out, so that’s tomorrow’s errand to run, getting it fixed, and b) a gift from the USPS:

 

Containing, among others, my story “Crossroads.”

Baby’s first Year’s Best inclusion!

So overall, despite a blister and busted glasses, I’m calling this F13th a win. Unless of course a masked serial killer breaks in before midnight….

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