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I got the edits for DANSE MACABRE back yesterday in a box; a big, thick, box. I’ve gone from eager to do the editing to just strung out from it. Some of the book is so familiar from writing and rewriting that I still can’t see it clearly. I’m on page 568 and the book is over a thousand pages, so still far to go. I was hoping to have it done before we fly to the coast for a business meet on Monday, but there is just no way to be done in time. Not unless I spend the whole weekend working, and I don’t want to do that. One of my goals for the new year is to enjoy my success more. I mean what’s the point of making money and doing well at your job if you never let yourself enjoy it? I was hoping for a more relaxing grown-up weekend, but my ex is sick, and he’s supposed to pick Trinity up tomorrow, but I’m not banking on it. Hoping, but not banking.
Frankly, with a book this size I’m not sure that working steadily all weekend would get it done in time to have it shipped back to New York on Monday anyway. Long damn book. I thought nearly a month off would make it seem fresh, but it’s still too close, too recent a wound. It’s like I’m still bleeding from the experience and they want me to fill out insurance forms. I’ve got THREE DAYS GRACE playing while I type this. I needed something with more of a beat than the Dean Martin Christmas album I was listening to. THREE DAYS GRACE is one of the albums I listened to when I did the last Merry book, A STROKE OF MIDNIGHT. Strangely, I’m going to be able to recycle almost all the albums that I used for MIDNIGHT for the new Merry book. She doesn’t seem to burn through music as fast as Anita does. I’d started rereading MIDNIGHT when the edits came back. Another reason why I was hoping to get done with the edits was to take the last Merry book and read and make notes on the plane, but I don’t want to immerse myself in one world then try to immerse myself in the other one. Too confusing.
I have no idea why I’m so discouraged today. It’s cold here, but I’ve put a space heater in my office for the dogs. I’ve had it aimed at their bed all day. Usually when I get up and leave the office they wander around or want to go with me, but today the pugs haven’t moved from the warm bed. Pip even stayed put through two interruptions. He finally couldn’t resist finding out what everyone else was doing, but he’s followed me back up, and he’s curled on the other side of the room. I guess there is only so much room on the dog bed and the pugs have stretched out, deeply asleep, and taken the space over. I’m going to make them go downstairs with me this time. I need a hug from my husband and then I give up for the day. I’m going to run a large amount of hot water in a tub and soak. Jon will handle the kiddo, and then we’ll have dinner, and then bed. The only thing that sounds better than a hot bath is cuddling next to Jon for a long winter’s sleep. Maybe I just need to hibernate?