Sunday night is upon us, leaving me wondering where the weekend went. I’m not sure I’m ready for tomorrow to be Monday. I had about eight hundred thousand words I was hoping to read. Instead, I read about eighty thousand, maybe I’ll hit a hundred tonight. Fortunately, most of those were the right words. So I’m pouring a “modern all-malt trippel dry-hopped and bottle conditioned” for words spilled and all those words yet to be read.