“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.”
—Hunter S. Thompson

I took at walk at 3:30 a.m. to clear my head.  A bat almost rammed into my forehead during the two mile trek.  I take that as a good omen.

I feel a surge of optimism…wicked, mischievous, optimism.  And I have absolutely no reason to feel it.  My situation today is more impossible than it was yesterday.  But that might be a part of it.  I tend to have this escape pod in my rationality…after a certain point of stress and impossibility it jettisons away and everything seems a little easier.  I developed that mechanic after a tiny nervous breakdown in junior high.

The sheer amount of words I have to write in the next 5 days is…nosebleed inducing.  But now the impossibility sounds fun…in the right frame of mind.  When I become a caricature of myself, when the corners of my grin touch at the back of my neck, anything is possible.