I'm tired and cranky and oh-so-hermity, but I wrote three pages today - three hardfought pages that should have been ten or fifteen pages for the amount of time I agonized over them, but three pages is way more than nothing, so I'll take it. I also knitted while I mulled over the next phase of the plot, which I think kind of shocked Terry - when she came home, she found me on the couch with a thousand-yard stare, and when she asked me how the writing was going, I responded with 'I taught myself how to knit' and held up 10.5" of scarf that I had made between yesterday and today. Ha. But then, she shocked me by saying she is now only watching tv on weekends, so I guess we're even.
I couldn't think anymore at that point, so I spent the evening staring at the manuscript to no avail, and then taking care of a whole ton of little things that have been niggling at the corners of my mind demanding attention. This means I now have a lot of errands to run tomorrow, but I think I'll survive. For now, though, it's bedtime - and let's hope that this f'ing scene ends tomorrow so that I can get on to something that doesn't take hours per page. Goodnight!
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