I should have gone to bed two hours ago, but I'm an idiot and stayed up putting tinsel in my hair and playing with (personal) spreadsheets. Clearly that means I'm out of words and am incapable of doing anything writing-related. It's no wonder; I got up early, did two meetings over video from home before nine a.m., and then snuck out for a glorious hour of writing over huevos rancheros before sullenly getting in my car and going into the office. To make up for my laxity, I stayed at work until 7:15, which was approximately two hours later than anyone else on my team. I grabbed supper at work, drove home, and said about three words to Terry before telling her I couldn't bear to talk and needed to go upstairs immediately.
Once upstairs, I had planned to write - but as I mentioned I'm out of words, so instead I put tinsel in my hair. Then I started playing with earnings spreadsheets for my self-pub endeavors; since all the vendors pay out on different schedules with different reports, compiling the data is a bit of a beast. But sometime in March I crossed the 20000 mark for number of books sold; granted, some of those were $0.99, but overall I'm pretty psyched that I've sold that many copies, particularly since I only have like two friends - so obviously almost all of that is made up of strangers who didn't buy a copy out of pity. Yay.
And now, after sharing too much, I shall go to sleep and hope that the commute doesn't kill me tomorrow (and that I don't kill anybody at the day job). Goodnight!
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