Today was long and brutal, but I'm in a much better mood than I was a few hours ago, so I'll take it. I got up somewhat early, drove to the office, and slogged for five hours or so before deciding that I would beat traffic and come home early. Once here, I worked for another couple of hours, took a nap, and then fought my own surly nature to decide what to do next. A big part of me wanted to crawl even deeper under the covers and pretend that I had never decided to become a writer. But I forced myself out of that mood, put on a fancy dress, and met Kathia for a writing date. We ended up going to Nectar, which was hilarious because we ran into Terry there, who had met another of her friends for a drink.
So Kathia and I ended up being the eccentric writer friends who talked for five minutes, then abruptly said that it had been lovely but that we had work to do. We grabbed a table and wrote for three hours, with help from a couple of glasses of wine and champagne. And I must say that I'm in a much better place than I thought I was - hopefully tomorrow will be enough to get through the bulk of the rest, but we shall see. It was nice, though, to have a friend in the hell I was going through, since Kathia was feeling similarly despondent and our dark nadirs somehow canceled each other out.
We finished around eight, and then we retrieved Terry from the group of people she was with and dragged her to dinner with us. I ate copious amounts of steak, although I didn't finish it, and I am still friends with Terry even though she ordered a chicken salad. Then we parted ways with Kathia and came home. And now I must sleep as much as possible, since I'm meeting Kathia tomorrow morning to end this fucker once and for all. Goodnight!
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