Strung Out

God, I’m shattered. A week in New Orleans, and one day of this con, and I’m more or less dead. This isn’t good. Three days of con to go, not enough money, not enough sleep, and plenty of bile ahead of me – god knows I could write a column right now and it would be solid hate. Now I’m off to watch a bunch of strangers eat food I don’t like. Wish me luck.

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