It’s 4:55 all over again

This morning when I woke up, the clock read 4:55.

The sick feeling in my stomach — from overindulgence in all things sweet — had faded, though I the memory of excessive treats was clear. Clear in the same way my proclamation of a “sugar-free” November was in the minivan on the way home after two parties.

(Note: when attending more than one, a smart party-goer will see the opportunity to be doubly gluttonous as the pool of witnesses to the evening’s poorly-considered candy binge will be divided; therefore, each assembly will have but a limited amount of time to observe the abandon of said party-goer and will be unable to confidently recall anything out of the ordinary.)

Lying in my bed, I thought, “You made that big announcement in front of your entire family, and now you’ve got thirty days to show how much willpower you have.”

(Note: when having a family, a smart parent will see the risk in having four children, who in their selective attentiveness, will remember their parent’s words nearly verbatim when it comes to some, though certainly not all things.)

Getting out of bed, I could smell the coffee waiting for me in the carafe in the kitchen. (Good thing I learned how to drink it black in college or I might have gotten back into bed.) Coming down stairs, the dogs at my heels, I realized I’d gained an hour from daylight-savings time.

The clock on my laptop reads 4:55. In the last hour, I have fed the dogs, checked email, twitter, & wordpress, started a load of laundry, enjoyed a cup of coffee, and written this post.

With those complete, all that’s left for me, in the quiet of my house, is my undivided attention on my story, Accidental Gravitas. I might be able to get 2.5K words in today while my system recovers from last night’s foolishness.

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