1:00 am and I just got home from a drive to D.C. and back. Twenty years ago I would've stopped for a beer or two before turning around and still gotten up bright and early for work tomorrow, but today I just wanted to get home. Too tired to write, which tells you just how tired I am considering my love for writing in the evening.
It was a good trip, anyway. Heide is finally home as a result. Delay after delay pushed the return back, but that just made it all the sweeter when she finally came walking through the security gate. Finally life will return to sort of normal in the King household...tomorrow, anyway. Right now, I don't want normal. I want sleep. Yes, that probably means I'm really getting old, so bite me.
I made the two hour drive to the airport in two hours, incidentally, which is only strange when you realize it was headed into Alexandria, Virginia, in rush hour. I'd budgeted far more time due to traffic, which put me at the airport with an hour and a half to spare. What a great time, I figured, to break out the new book that arrived this morning: The Making of a Bestseller. It's a fairly quick read; just in the time I sat in the airport I read the first third, ish, of it. Can't wait till I'm less tired and can expound on it more thoroughly, but in the meantime I'll just say that it's looking so far like the best purchase I've made.
And...with that...night night.
Word count: Unchanged
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