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6:22 p.m. - January 17, 2003 I'm not going to go. Came home and took a nap and I'm awake, energized, and have nothing to do. Other than the book. The book. The manuscript. The trouble! I can sympathize with those who have children. Once they're here, you can't undo them. Same thing with contracts. The degree of sickness is spreading; today conceptualized yet another book and why didn't I think of it before or already? Some Friday night I will go out and laugh and be glad I did. Back to work. Workworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkwork.
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