It is 3:23 a.m. Luna has taken my spot on the bed. Again. That's okay. I was awake. I'm probably not going to sleep well-ish until I'm done with my latest project.
My current goal is to finish my manuscript by next Wednesday. Head out of town, read and review it when I get back, and give it to my editor by our prescribed deadline. However, as it was once pointed out to me, no battleplan outlives the enemy.
In addition to a needy dog, I have other humans in my home who like me enough to demand my time. My mom has some significant drama which requires a bit of attention and sympathy. I have a garden to finish up--and let me just say this, SQUEE! It's looking better. Also, I have an out of town trip tomorrow, something I planned a month ago. I'm leading it. So, yeah... I guess it's happening. And, its Birthday Month(TM), and people are insisting I act the part.
However, biggest challenge happens to be I'm not great company even for myself. I'm writing about a dark and vile subject. And if I can be so bold, something which hit too close to home recently. (I was writing about it before I found out it hit our home.) Every ugly chapter where I have to write more about the villains spirals me further into an emotional abyss. Yesterday I wanted to take a Lysol shower.
All for art, right?
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