So I moved. Not completely but mostly...Just a few more bags o' stuff and my bureaus. Yeah, I know what you're saying, fucking A girl, just move on already. I found myself trying to heap sleep on my head at approximately 5:30 am, the chemical burn of my muscles grating into my arms, legs head
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I am so proud of you.
I also cannot move, because my entire body is in knots after editing for seriously 72 hours straight.
Francis: when this book finally comes out, we hafta celebrate. Because, at the very least, it means a few weeks of rest for this Francis.
Francis: guess what else. My article...might just be published in the book after all. First, it has to make it through "peer" [aka people with doctorates] review, though...
But look: It's up there.... Number 22 on the Table of Contents.
I love you, Francis. Squish Asa for me. I will call soon. Or you call me. *Smooch*
XOXOXOXO
LOve Always,
The Other [Knotted-up] Francis
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I find it hard to believe that you will have any length of time you could describe as week(s), however.
Someday. Be well Francis and take care of your back!!!
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It really will happen.
It happened last summer---it's just that, with all the shitty psycho-ex drama, I couldn't enjoy those weeks.
But I will have them. And when I do, this time they will be even sweeter, because I will have a book published. A book with my name in it.
My dream from roughly the age of 5 up until now.
My back can wait. It can. I am ready.
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you belong in brooklyn, attitude jones.
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