I'm not having any luck with stories today. I have a million things to write about, but nothing good for tomorrow's paper.
I have no weekend plans, either. It's Lent. The girls invited me out tonight, but since I gave up alcohol for six weeks and am fasting I don't think hitting the bars would be a good idea.
Something big is fixing to happen. I know it is. Something life-changing. My little subconscious guy that runs from the back of my brain to my prefrontal cortex to bring me messages that fire my instincts has been extremely busy lately. Running his butt off. Too bad his messages are written in invisible ink and as soon as they reach the cognitive part of my brain they fade to the point I can make out writing but can't read the words. And then they are gone altogether.
(See what happens when I'm deprived of alcohol?)