Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Six
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Later than usual, but still don’t feel rested.
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Water, coffee, leftover chicken stew. Moving files and deleting them. Looking at the scope of your work.
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Wiped clean.
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Thin, whispy fog. Five hot air balloons dotting the horizon. Green and red and yellow and orange.
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“Why am I doing this, really?”
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I could sit with them here for forever in the clear yellow light, sipping wine, talking about technology and life and our responsibility to each other.
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Crashing.
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The desk looks so much cleaner with nothing on it.
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Golden State Cider Might Dry.
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Downloading 82 updates.