I'm not used to spend a whole week in outer space. It's bad for your sleep cycle. This morning, one of my managers told me I looked like I hadn't slept for the last three days. He wasn't wrong, but I didn't have the heart to tell the poor man about the Nyquil abuse. A man has to do what needs to be done when it's time to go to bed. All of that sleep debauchery has been again due to the fact I had to wrestle with my body. My nose particularely.
I worked on Chapter 3 of "Solace" this week. It's a first draft, so the quality isn't there, but I get a sense of action. My novel is beating the path I need to walk to completion. This is passing by building Ashley. She's a nice girl, a good girl. The American Dream. She's worth fighting for, that's what I'm implementing right now, a girl worth risking your life for. A girl, a woman, a sister, a friend. A girl that is known and respected.
The rest can be worked.
I need to keep my eyes opened to my brain can read.
I need ininterrupted sleep.
I think.
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