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Thirteen pages today on JASON. The muse is kicking, and of course, we are a day away from flying out to Tulsa for Conestoga. Have you noticed that my muse seems to always pick up speed just before I have to have some huge disruption in my schedule? Or is that just me?
I’ve done like a half dozen different businessy phone calls, which was where the afternoon went. Plus I tried to pick up my new glasses, and they didn’t work. They were my computer glasses, but the visual was set for about ten to twelve inches away, my desk is a big desk, so it’s more like between twenty and thirty inches away. The glasses worked great close, but bad double the distance. So, I won’t have my new glasses for Conestoga, or probably for Comicon. Oh, well, my old ones work well enough for most things.
I’m off to bed. It has been a long week. Sleep and some cuddling sound just about perfect, though I have to admit it is one of those nights when those celebrities that have a full time massage therapist on call doesn’t sound as stupid as it once did. Massage is like your emergency services when you need one, you really need one.