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On a Friday night I’ve rushed home, made coffee, and am trying to reverse from too many margaritas…all to get my blog written before midnight. If that’s not dedication, I don’t know what is.

Honestly, I don’t know how some writers…great writers…Hemingway, Chandler, Thompson, the list goes on and on…wrote their best stuff while drinking. I’m a horrible writer when I drink…I need all my wits about me for this game…which is why this will be short.

This morning, I spent half an hour reading Palaver Journal while I sipped reheated coffee and ate toasted frozen waffles. This is the literary magazine whose flash fiction contest I’m going to enter. What followed was a crazy, busy day at work and then a much needed night out, laughing and cheering in a rowdy crowd, with salted margaritas and spicy wings. Our team lost, but still a good Friday night. Didn’t get any writing done, but tomorrow is all about writing…and rain…and sleeping in…and pajamas. You know how I love my Saturdays…