It's 40°F and sunny. In January. It is actually sunny in January without snow being on the ground. All we've seen of snow is a couple of sprinklings and that's it. Tomorrow the high is 46°. I know it's all going to go the way of Dante's Hell eventually, but just having this amount of beautiful warmth up to this point makes this the best IL winter ever. I even turned the heater down. *runs off to bask in the sunlight*

Also, I'm officially doomed to write longer stories than I want to handle. The first chapter of my newest fic is 9,000 words long. Honestly, Surrender with its 24,000 words didn't feel overly long to me compared to the original novel work I've been doing, but now it feels a bit smaller. Why must I keep writing monsters?


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