I was going to go to bed an hour ago, but I got distracted making a spreadsheet of my 2014 travel plans, which reveals that if I pursue all of the plans I currently have, I will be gone from home ninety days and will need thirty-five vacation days to accomplish all of this. Ha. This doesn't seem like a successful recipe for writing three books next year, although I suppose it doesn't count the long weekends and other corporate holidays, during which times I could theoretically do mini writing retreats to accomplish stuff. But between the day job (22 days), the romance conference circuit (28 days), my family life, and a vague dream of going to Paris again, I'll be getting in quite a bit of jetsetting this year (unless I hang it all and go live in a cabin somewhere).
But despite that dawning horror, today was good; I slept until almost noon, then spent the afternoon reading a book and helping to set up my mom's new tablet and the Chromecast that [censored] and I gave to our parents. So that was all v. good. We had leftover zucchini lasagna for dinner, and then I experienced some fine CBS programming ("The Millers", which was really funny) before coming downstairs and chatting with [censored] about [censored]. Then I read for another couple of hours, which a v. short break to almost fall asleep, followed by a burst of insight about what will happen in Thorington's story. I'm hopeful that I can plot this thing before I go back to work, but we shall see.
And now, I really should go to sleep so that I can get ten or so hours of sleep - goodnight!
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