I've spent a few hours cleaning up my manuscript; same font, pagination, attributing quotes, etc. When R gave me the table of contents with page numbers, I got a little weepy, sap that I am.
Clear hot morning, off to pack for Portland. Oh, off to see the shrink first. Sometimes I think I have nothing to talk about and then I spend the whole session on the floor with kleenex stuck to my face.
Can't sleep past 6 AM, too bright in my room. I refuse to wear eye shades (or ear plugs). Too many years waiting for the pager to go off. I can be ready to go to a birth in record time, teeth brushed even. Wonder-midwife, that's me. All I need is a cape and some winged boots. Yeah.