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School is all right, I really enjoy my drawing class, I love my computer design class (Photoshop: SO COOL!) I tolerate my Geology class and I sleep through my Physics class while those around me get D's I scrape my A's.
Work is work is work (is a cigar? is a rose?) I just found out they're packing up our department and moving it to another section of the company, which makes me anxious a la Arrested Development. "So when do we get to see our shiny new offices?" "As soon as you get your shiny new jobs."
Moby is I think the cutest darn baby on the planet, even when I try to look at him as if he's not my son, I still wanna eat him up and hug him to death while doing so. In a good way, of course.
Tracie is an amazing mother despite what she thinks, and my biggest regret is not being able to be with them more often. But hey, if I DO write this novel and if it sells and if I make millions I can stay home with my family and write when I want, right? Awful lot of if's there, but I'm learning that if growing up means giving up on your dreams, I'm never going to completely grow up.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a best selling novel to write.