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I’m working on something new this week and it is scaring the beejesus out of me. Pushing all kinds of buttons. This new project involves me putting myself out in the public in a way that makes me break out in a sweat. I feel queasy.

I’ve been working on bits and pieces of it since the weekend and the one piece I slated for today, I was so reluctant to do it, I actually cleaned my office from top to bottom. I even polished the wood floors. I mean, I really did not want to do this thing.

I finally did the thing. I’m not real happy about but at least I got it done. I may re-do it tomorrow, I don’t know. But at least I did the thing today. It was making me nuts, just thinking about it.

After I finished, I took myself out to my local bar and had a beer and a basket of sweet potato fries. I half-watched the first round of the NCAA tournament and caught up on bar gossip. I love bar gossip. My first job out of high school was working as a cocktail waitress in a nightclub. It was the ’80’s and the nightclub had a ’50’s theme. During happy hour, the stock brokers and regional account managers from nearby downtown would show up and drink Crown Royal and Cokes and Sevens and Sevens while the DJ played Motown. One of the first things I learned about men: they love to gossip. Love it. They don’t call it gossip but gossip it is. Talk radio? Gossip. Sports radio? Gossip. Howard Stern? Gossip. All of it.

I came home and now I’m writing this, sitting in my sparkling clean office. I am doing some risky things, this week. I don’t know how it is all going to go. I’m fixin’ to walk off into something. I don’t know.

Watch this space for more info.

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