Triumph!

No, this is not about a bra.

This weekend, I made an elaborate breakfast on both Saturday and Sunday. I went out for a coffee today. I’ve read 15 pages of Alissa Nutting’s Tampa. And I’ve written 7,500 words. Two days, 7,500 words. At first I thought I’d got it wrong — we’re talking about numbers and me. Mistakes are the territory — but 4,000 plus 3,500 is 7,500, right?

And no, I haven’t typed an extra zero. I’m bad with numbers, but not that bad.

At this point, I’m pendulum-ing between:

what-pegg

and

dirty-dancing-lift

while rocking back and forth and praying that please god let me not have to rewrite any of it please please please.

7,500. Whoa.

I’ll probably be asked to rewrite about 7,000 of those words, but hey, that’s not today. For now, good night and good luck.

sofa-crash

(Yes, it’s true. The only reason I put this post up is that I love the gifs.)

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