Okay, must admit that I'd thought this ride was over. That the engine had stalled, no tow truck in sight, key's turning over, no sounds. Then fuck me, a cherried-out 1965 mustang moseys up the street, quiet, just kind of basking in that, gee I am a bad ass car but I don't need to flaunt it, mode. Want a ride
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stoppit omg.
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I know *exactly* what you mean by transcribing, and when it happens it's what makes all the indecision, all the angst (like why did I ever think I could write), every horrible, nagging doubt that dogs us when we write worth while.
Just hug yourselves because it's that good.
Anyway, since when is a shit-eating grin a bad thing? Grin away. You've earned it.
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*IS CRUEL*
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Am such a sub. In bondage via words.
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actually, i didn't go to work. SNOW!
I've just tossed hubby and kid out in it to go sledding. so. there will be tig.
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