I took yesterday off — I didn’t crack open the laptop or a reference book all day. I severely needed the time away from the manuscript; I think I broke myself on Tuesday. I couldn’t string enough words together to make a coherent sentence yesterday, and it was a bit of an Eeyore day as well.

So I read all of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix instead, and yet again, for the third time, I read it too fast and didn’t allow the story to breathe properly.

Orchestra was okay, not spectacular but okay, and I slept well (although I dreamed of washing one of my Wicca books in Debra’s washing machine, because the pages had begun to go a bit yellow with age). I awoke to HRH sitting on the edge of the bed to say goodbye (yes, he’s putting in a half-day today). We talked politics for about fifteen minutes, then he got up to go to work. “Oh, sure,” I said, “talk sweet politics to me and then just leave.” “Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” he smirked, and off he went.

I so love the fact that my husband can now make literary jokes.

In other news, I sat down to finally reserve my plane ticket to Hamilton, and found to my utter disgust that with taxes and fees etc., the cost of the ticket has doubled. So I’m in the process of checking out the cost of train tickets; I can switch to the GO train in Toronto and meet my parents in Oakville, and it will probably be cheaper. (Update: Yup. Cheaper. Plus I’d get there earlier in the day, and it’s a ten-minute round trip to pick me up instead of an hour.)

I’m bright-eyed and busy-tailed, and I’m determined to write at least two thousand nine hundred and ninety-seven words today.