T-1 and a bit days

I almost managed to forget the single piece of advice that was the glue that enabled me to hold it all together in the last round. The advice that one could identify as "whatever I was smoking that morning" or "the crack-packed Wheaties" I've been describing as the magic ingredient that made it all work just 4 eternally long weeks ago. Advice associated with an ex-lover proclaiming the words as her new motto, with a desert friend who knew that the smoking wasn't quite enough for me to pull it all together. (Speaking of which, daaaamn I miss cigarettes. But it's a good thing I'm addicted to the patch at the moment, rather than the somewhat less savory, and less publicly acceptable incarnation of the habit. Left coast, and all...) So, to bed, to face a day of teaching followed by some travel. The advice? Just chill the fuck out...