Six jobs on the plate...

Three of the jobs are due tomorrow, pretty much in the morning, and I hope to get them finished before hitting the sack tonight. The rest are due Friday. Right now, I'm waiting for Galina to come home from the store with a ream of printer paper, as I am all out. (In fact, I've been scrounging the back side of used sheets!)

Besides the psychic stress of going East to deal with the situation with my mother - to be frank, the way my dad was speaking over the phone, I thought this most recent trip was an invitation to come say my goodbyes - the trip had a practical and deleterious side-effect: it basically ate my budget for the ATA conference this year. Not only was I looking forward to connecting with old colleagues, but Seattle is also the home to some non-ATA folks with whom I've worked over the years, and with whom I had hoped to meet while at the conference. Drat. Echoing the battle cry of disappointed baseball fans everywhere: "Wait'll next year!"

Cheers...

NaNoWriMo, Day 1...

The colonel, standing straight as a ramrod despite his age, stood easily next to one of several gaily decorated tables in the room that were groaning under the weight of food and drink. He looked up from his drink with an expression that betrayed an inability to decide whether he ought to break wind or wind his watch, and did neither. Instead, he toppled over to his left, into the triangular space between the table featuring the sturgeon and another whose main offering was faux Swedish meatballs.

No women screamed. No men applauded. Very strange, I thought.

And twelve words ahead of the pace, as well!

Cheers...