Dateline: above the garage in Portsmouth RI, 25 January 2005
Sister sends me email yesterday, saying how sorry she was that my second book was turning out to be harder to write than my first (I go back and forth on that one--like, hourly).
At first, I was like: Whoa! How does she know this? Is everyone talking behind my back? Have I no secrets anymore? Should I write down these fears in my blog?
Then it hit me.
Enough typed.
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