This must be how an addict feels: Anxious, edgy, the world just off-kilter enough to make him feel like an outsider, and then, when he finally gets the fix, ahhhhh.
Anxiety? What anxiety? Dude, it's all bliss and haze in here.
No, I'm not on hallucinogens, not drunk, not smoking something. I edited a paragraph.
Yep, you read me right. Edited. A paragraph.
I deleted a phrase. Ooh, that's good stuff. I rearranged a sentence. Getting better. I tossed out a word, inserted a dependent clause, and replaced a weak image with a strong visual. Wow. Psychedelic, man.
All the collected tension of a busy afternoon and evening just drifted away like curls of smoke.
Hello. My name is Keanan Brand. I'm a verbaholic.