Literally, and figuratively.
It's now after 10 am, when the freelance writing meeting started. Yet, I purposely shut off my alarms (yes, more than 3) and kept sleeping until 9am. I finished a book, ate a waffle, and took dogface for a walk.
I chickened out.
All of my reasons don't really work - I don't like people reading what I write, which is semi-perfect in a blog because I only know those who are following (kinda) and can look around the country/world to see areas where other people are reading. I don't have to open anything up to criticism, which is what took my previous post of saying "yes, I'm going" to today's where I flat out squawked like a chicken and laid my eggs at home.
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