try to wrap your arms around a memory

Blehsdghad.fg. I'm sick of staring at my screen and sick of typing and sick of looking at letters and trying to rearrange them into some semblance of order. I mean, all in all it's gone really well the past few days, and I've gotten a lot done. But there's still a lot left to do, which means this weekend is going to be pretty hellish.

Anyway. Let's try to be upbeat here. I got up around eleven, putzed around, and eventually made it out of the studio by 1pm to find some food and start editing. The place where I had lunch was slightly disappointing; they are famous for their gluten free bread and so I was going to have a sandwich, but they were out of bread. Then I asked what their daily scramble was, and they said it had asparagus in it, so no go on that either. I ended up with two plain scrambled eggs (since I panicked and forgot to ask them to add anything) and some okay home fries. The lady was super nice and gave me a bit of the bread she had left over, which she toasted -- and, it turns out, I didn't love it, so I'm glad I didn't get a sandwich. The place was still really chill, though, so I sat there for an hour and a half and powered through a couple of chapters of edits.

Then I left, wandered down to the beach, and sat out on a patio in the sun for a couple of hours and edited some more while overlooking the water (and some people playing beach volleyball). It was quite lovely, but it perhaps made me less than optimally productive since there was so much loveliness to behold. So I came home, took care of some urgent non-editing stuff (namely booking tickets to writing events), and then went out to grab dinner at Chipotle. I was going to write at Starbucks after that, but I really wanted to get into my pajamas, so I came back to the cottage and worked for the past five hours. Fun.

As I said, it's going well, but it's going to be a really rough weekend. I would be tempted to find someplace here and stay if it weren't for the fact that I would love to sleep in my own bed again. So I think I'll go to bed now, even though it's only 12:30, and then get up tomorrow and drive up to Stanford, where I will work until they close (and hope the closing of the Bay Bridge doesn't totally screw me when I try to go home after that).

Okay, wish me luck -- as soon as I finish this book, I never have to write this book again, and I can move on to something else, which is super exciting! Yay! Crazy laugh! Crazy laugh turns into a sob! Sob turns back into a laugh! Brain explodes! Goodnight!