Yesterday I finished my paper (in the nick of time) and turned it in! I am giddy with relief.
I am not usually up this late, but I went out to a very nice dinner with my in-laws (husband's parents, sister, and her boyfriend), and then when I got home I still had some writing to do. Which writing I have just sent off to my editor (by which I mean my generous friend who makes me commit to sending her writing every week, without which committment I simply don't write), so now I am taking stock. Should I go lie in bed and read something I won't have to write a paper on afterwards? Or should I play a bit of a computer game? A difficult decision, made more difficult by not knowing what I would read: I finished the last Sarah Caudwell novel (The Sybil in Her Grave) this morning, and am thus poised delightedly above my piles of books, musing over which one to swoop down upon and devour next.
Today I slept quite late, and then went out to coffee with a friend, trading stories from our recent travels (his to Tokyo, mine to London) and discussing manga and theoretical politics and phatic novels. After I got home I saw my husband doing dishes, and leapt in to take over while he took the trash down. The dishwasher ran while we were at dinner, so after breakfast tomorrow I'll be in a fine place to begin my morning dish-doing routine.
And oof, I'm sleepy; I think I should just declare tiredness the better part of it being after midnight, or something else incoherent, and toddle off to bed. Good night, gentle reader; I hope your dreams are pleasant and your waking even more so.
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