Prologue: Viable Paradise Week

Viable Paradise

I’m forcing myself to go to bed as soon as I post this, even though I’m not the least bit sleepy, and probably too excited to sleep. Tomorrow is the Big Day™. I’ll get on a plane in the morning and fly to Boston, then bus to Woods Hole, then ferry over to Martha’s Vineyard for Viable Paradise. Can. Not. Wait.

I just hope I’ll sleep. The plane leaves at WayTooFreakingEarly:30, which means I have to get up at some unbelievable hour that I’ve heard tell of, but can’t recall seeing with my own eyes, just so I can get to the airport two hours before the flight because of TSA. I’ve checked my itinerary and the ferry schedule about 300 times since this morning, convinced it’ll change before my eyes and say something else this time. I was . . . not exactly present, mentally, at work.

At least the drive down to the airport will be easy at that hour. The only people up will be vampires and milkmen, one of which is mythical. And I think it’s milkmen.

Anyhoo, enough procrastination. Bed!

Wondering what the “Prologue:” is about? Stay tuned! All will become clear, soon. </cryptic>

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