Andare, Partire, Tornare

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Gather ye rosebuds

The time is 6:42, and the last of the West Wing crew have just swept out. In their wake, they leave cleanliness and the smell of roses, thanks in part to the five thousand dollars they spent on an expansive floral display - that will not even be glimpsed in the actual shot for the television show.

I am...not tired, but riding high on a second wave of adrenaline due to the last minute hustle and bustle. I was planning on trying to spend the day, but I think I'll hold out as long as I can, and then make the drive home. Bearing flowers.

More details when I am sentient again.

6:42 a.m. - 2002-02-25

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