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Mental Freedom

For the next twenty-four hours, I am free. I have written 3000 words today--3000 words, people!--and shipped off my packet to The Tim Wynne-Jones, advisor extraordinaire.

And thus, I am free. Free to make Irish Soda Bread tomorrow. Free to burrow into a book. Free to get caught up on the things of life I have left behind.

Which, I guess isn't really that free at all. Still. I'm going to milk it for ten minutes at least.

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