Dear Diary,
I am one tired pocket-lesbian. No lie. See, I couldn’t get to sleep last night, so I decided to stay up and be productive, which led me to drink coffee, which led me to overdose on coffee, which led me to mangle my first attempt at French Toast, which was followed by zombie-walking through the latter half of my day and pounding away at my keyboard trying to write something creative like a dyslexic, hemorrhaging monkey on crack.
It wasn’t one of my sexier moments.
Still, somehow, I managed to crank out a few thousand words, with half of them even being legible. Hell, as I write this entry, Word is looking like some sort of mangled Christmas document the way it’s underlining every other thing with pretty little multi-colored squiggly lines. It’s kind of pretty, actually. Grammarly is going to cancel my subscription when I push the button to start checking this bestial motherfucker.
Just for fun, one day I’m going to publish an entry with zero editing or revisions.
But not today. 
Tomorrow is going to be a bit of a sad day for me: I have errands to run, which means no writing at all. I guess that also means I can flush out the plot a bit more on my current story, but that’s not the same as writing. And it’s nowhere near as satisfying. It’s kind of like eating a salad to stave away hunger instead of a hamburger and cheese fries. You might get full, but…
Anyway, aside from working on the rough draft of The Qedesha’s Handmaiden, organizing Good Girls Gone Bad (another upcoming book that is just waiting on the cover to be finished), and promising my bestie I would dog-sit for her next week for a few days, my day has been pretty uneventful.
So far.
There’s always the night. 
#Alexa
“Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, and dogs are a man’s best friend. Now you know which sex has more sense.”
– Zsa Zsa Gabor
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