I'm way exhausted and didn't get through all the day job stuff that I intended to do, which means there's a good (100%) chance I'll have to work tomorrow on the plane or Monday on my retreat. Damn. It wasn't for lack of trying; I got up early and started working on day job stuff by seven a.m., and I continued to slog virtually without pause (except for 45mins to grab a late breakfast and pick up my dry cleaning) until 4:30. Then I abandoned my efforts, got some coffee to try to stave off impending death, and went downtown to get my bangs trimmed. And then I spent the last three hours packing, attempting to make some order out of the chaos around me, and contemplating whether I'm just exhausted or am actually finally succumbing to the cold that has kept trying to take me down for the past two weeks.
But in twelve hours I'll be on a plane to New York, where I will have a whole glorious week to write in focused solitude with some other writers. I have v. high aspirations for what I can do with Thorington's story in a week, so I'm going to try to be a good little soldier and get my work done on the plane tomorrow so I don't have to check my work stuff again. We shall see, we shall see. Goodnight!
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