I’m escaping, running away, casting off the chains that bind me.
I know what you’re thinking: She is so dramatic.
It is Saturday and the book isn’t finished, but if I sit at this desk for another fourteen hours I’m going to expire. Really. I’m going to stab myself with an emery board and crawl under my desk with a pillow and blanket. So I’m meeting a girlfriend for lunch and a “let’s catch up on the last four months” conversation. I’m going to the local quilt store for a “let’s see what’s new in the past eighteen months since I’ve been to a quilt store”.
I may even—gasp—-buy some fabric. Just for fun. Just because it’s there and I’m there and the book is almost done.
Later this afternoon Nebraska plays Michigan, so I will sit on the couch with Banjo Man and make sure he doesn’t have some kind of nervous attack while watching the game.
And then I will go back into my office…because the book is almost done. Almost.