I've reached the manic part of my process, I think.
That's probably all I need to say...you loyal readers have now lived through me finishing five books, which is hard to believe, and so at this point you may know my process as well as I do. Today was good, but I need to stop and take a breath. I trained with Alyssa this morning, and the session was good (I guess I'm now swinging 20kg bells? Good?), but I was 20min late due to the absurd traffic caused by the first bit of rain we've had in ages. Then I went to work, showered, slogged, ate lunch, went to the coffee shop to work for a bit, and then had three more meetings before calling it a day.
Then I suffered another hour and a half on the road, which sucked. But I got home, sat for a few minutes, forced myself to rally, and went to Des Amis, where I accomplished quite a bit despite my exhaustion. I also accomplished quite a bit despite my precarious emotional state...everything is uncomfortably close to the surface right now, as it always is when I have to bleed the last few chapters directly onto the page. I've said it before and I'll say it again - it's horribly perfect that I feel compelled to make a career out of sharing emotion through stories when I often do my level best to ignore my own. Tanks, universe.
And now I must sleep - goodnight!
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