Okay, that’s enough for today. My ears are blocked as a direct result of the cold, and it’s making it hard to concentrate after sitting here for a few hours. It’s almost four o’clock, and I’ve more than passed today’s quota; I’m taking the next hour off to read and relax before I go pick up the boy, because I deserve it.
Total word count, ESTC: 19,610
Total words today: 1,517
We are approaching the halfway mark with disturbing alacrity. I should probably start expanding the outlines of the last two chapters, or there will be no room for them. There’s currently about a page and a half of moderately unnecessary stuff that I’ll probably end up excising, so there will be that much more room somewhere down the line, but for now it’s still there.
And since I’ve updated my handwritten goal sheet and have the reference right here, I can let you know with all confidence that I’m past this Friday’s goal by 2100 words, and am only 1400 away from next Friday’s goal. (‘Next Friday’ being September 8. Yes, I’m rather pleased about that myself.)
On Monday Jan mentioned in a comment on my word count that I seemed to be past my week’s goal.
And I said no, that I was a thousand words below it.
It has just occured to me, looking at my current word count (18,568 for those who must know), that I am now officially a thousand words ahead of this week’s goal. When replying to Jan, I was looking at my total as of last Friday, which was 16.5ishK, and not this Monday’s total at all. I hadn’t yet updated my handwritten sheet with the totals and weekly goals on it that I use for reference.
She was right. As of Monday, I was already five hundred words ahead of where I need to be by this Friday. (Which is, in actuality, by the end of today, since I’m not working this Friday.)
This (plus whatever else I accomplish this afternoon) sounds like a big lead, but losing Friday and Monday as work days is going to balance it out, putting me square back on schedule when I pick up again next Wednesday. (At which time I’ll start working to create a new lead to cover the three days I’ll lose to Thanksgiving and a retreat.)
So yay me, and yay Jan, and yay to the word count and the updated goal sheet. Now, back to work.
Liam, of course, had a wonderful afternoon yesterday with his godparents and came home all smiles. Ate like a small horse. Slept for an hour and a half. Bit no one. (Or so I assume, because I didn’t hear about it.) And then he ate a huge bowl of pasta and veggies in homemade cheese sauce for supper, had a fun bath during which he gave us very wet and tender hugs, and went to bed cheerfully. With those damn molars, it’s like Jeckyll and Hyde around here sometimes.
Filling the gas tank to the literal brim gave me an indecent amount of pleasure. Our gas tank hasn’t been full since sometime in late May. I just keep putting five or ten dollars in when gas prices dip down closer to a dollar, or when we need it. Pumping gas doesn’t rank as one of my favorite tasks — I don’t hate it, I’m just neutral about it — but I enjoyed every moment this time. It was extraordinarily satisfying.
HRH and I had a good dinner of leftover ribs and new potatoes drowned in butter with freshly ground sea salt and pepper. Simple, and utterly delicious. We watched a very good PBS program on the making of the Mars Pathfinders, followed by the second-ever RockStar: Supernova episode that I’ve seen, which I somehow feel that I enjoyed much more than I should have. It’s just become appointment television. (Gentle Readers, I am in a band, you know. We do play The Ramones and Metallica. And I’m fascinated by the art of arrangement.)
I received a deeply appreciated message from one of my oldest friends this morning, pointing out some positive truths that helped reinforce today’s saner perspective for me. I don’t have to always be perky and cheerful and resilient. Stress happens. Nerves understandably fray. And the stress gets worse because I care so much.
Today, I have a stack of Haydn string quartet CDs to rip to my computer as I work, because one can never have enough string quartets in one’s playlists. Then I may move on to ripping my Beethoven quartets. Then Schubert. Who knows? I lead such a wild and crazy life.