Within a few days I will write the last words of a first draft.
Nothing else seems to matter. There's laundry and dishes everywhere. I hope the kids did their homework. I wish I could lock myself in my room with my computer and have someone bring me my meals. Not that I'm sure I would eat them.
When I have to stop, it feels like my mind is coming back from a long ways away. And it doesn't want to stay for long.
I'd love to come up with some snappy concluding sentence for this post, but I really must get back to work.
"THE END" OR BUST!