By the time you read this —I always wanted to write that!!
It's 14:00 Zulu Time. I'm in Atlanta, and everything is five by five. I'm headed up to NY for the Burning Wheel Con, waiting to board my flight. I've been on the move since 4 a.m. CT. It's like catching the last bits of some magical realm before it is chased off by the mundane sun. I dig it. My body wants to stay in bed, slumbering - but that's what the Will stat is for, and the magic beckons. Thirty minutes later, I'm in an Uber sipping coffee; even over two decades, some military habits just don’t die. Only my giant pups know I'm gone, ‘everybody gets love,’ I tell them with big hugs then I move out. My driver and I cover the gig economy, the great AI takeover, and bionic Bigfoot. TSA marvels at my GM kit; they always do. The dice cause me trouble, so I pull them out to be scanned on their own. Way easier and faster that way —but then there are the questions and awe. I sip a coffee and relax. Once boarded, I'm out like a light before the plane gets airborne. This is my S.O.P.
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