A Writer's Notebook, Two-Thousand-Three-Hundred-And-Twenty-Four

I feel kind of bad that I didn't get my work done last night, but I know it happens.  Ironically, it wasn't because Melissa and I were out celebrating or anything.  We spent the night at home together. I made a nice meal for us, but I think we were both just exhausted after a long day.  I do feel a bit old confessing that I think we both fell asleep before midnight.

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