"FIX THIS MESS" That was the message that awaited me when I opened word up to work on my novel today. There was, apparently, a section of it where I wrote the same scene in two different ways and then thought they'd make perfect sense if I put them back to back. Whoops. Trying to think with kiddos running around is apparently harder than it seems. Harder still? Typing with a damn wrist brace on. Unbearably difficult? Writing in this heat. Seriously, this is not cool. I need me some FALL and I need it now. There. Venting over. You may go about your business.
p.s. Don't forget to vote on Monday's poll. Your voice matters!
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