Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Act III.

I want to have the kind of hope my dog has when my nephew walks around eating chips.

The anticipation is building as I see my sitcom’s finish line. I’ve written seven episodes, and am now choosing two to hone and produce. It’s a beast. Ask your doctor if Adderall can help you vigorously scrub your floors and alphabetize your clothing instead of writing.

Back to work.