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I’m sitting in my living room in my underwear after finishing my second bottle of whiskey. (To be fair, the first one wasn’t completely full.) At the same time, I’m finishing up a short story that really needs to get done. It’s going really well. The words are flowing from my fingers. The plot is captivating and entertaining and yet….

I’m two bottles of whiskey in. This could all be crap.

This will probably need editing…