My manic can't-run-but-must-exercise walking (almost ten miles in under 24 hours) has combined with my forgetting to eat to turn me into a shaky, weak mess. So now I'm slamming scrambled eggs into my mouth like a genuine crazy person. My leg hurts, but that's old news. I have Taylor Swift stuck in my head. Today I'll brew mead in my basement, do some recreational cleaning, and maybe, if I'm good, buy myself some landscape plants to put into the yard.
So anyway, feeling pretty good.
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