So, writers write. What do I see?
Mother in the hammock, not wanting me to write.
Three fish in cloudy water. An uprooted pot plant waiting to go into the fish-tank.
Boy didn't know his stuff for school. I got to practice some new songs.
Lots of stuff to buy, but no real money to buy anything.
A witches festival on the weekend and Adrenalina on Friday.

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So much shit happening that I had to stop for an hour or so. Client. Renata calls. Etc.
Oh, yeah and pastas for luch.