It’s gonna be a hell of a week. I just know it. I’m prepping for failure, starting tonight!

Single malt whiskey, opened.
Alarm set for a very, very LATE morning.
It’s on!

But… No late-night snacks. And this city is not famous for its night-life and after-hours diners. Waking up in the morning is going to suck hard. I think I’ll immediately go eat something out, whatever my heart desires. I’m looking at you, large pepperoni, onion, and green peppers pizza.

Tomorrow is a rest day, so fuck it. Gonna pack 3x amount of daily calories. It doesn’t matter. Happiness comes in the shape of a circle with sauce, cheese, and toppings.

Clients keep canceling on me a week or two before,
Money is not flowing as expected,
Pounds got added, not lost.

Maybe this is the push I need to get my shit in order.
Write a new novel, go back to my old life.

Who knows, nothing is certain.
Only knee pain the day after running, disappointments, and calories are guaranteed. At least I got AC, fast internet, and a big-ass flat screen, you can do a lot with those three working at full capacity.