“Ooh, how was your vacation?” asked one coworker.
“Yeah, did you finish your book?” asked another.
I decided the best course of action was to mumble incoherently and leave the room, which was probably very rude, but it was better than breaking down into sobbing hysterics.
The answers to those questions, for those of you who were wondering, are, respectively,
Spent all nine days working on the manuscript but came nowhere near to finishing. It’s looking less and less likely that I’ll finish it on time but, well, I kind of have to.
I should be working on it right now but I’m exhausted, probably because I spent the whole day sniffling and feeling stressed. I am ready to crawl into bed, but it’s only 5:54 p.m. I am going to wait until at least 6. That gives me six minutes to kill.
And I shall kill them by offering an apology. I won’t be posting anything here for a few weeks. You wouldn’t want to read what I’d have to say, anyway. These days I’m in a weepy, cranky, thoroughly unpleasant mood, and besides, I’ve turned into a one-trick pony. There’s only one topic on my mind, and you’re sick to death of hearing about it and I’m sick to death of thinking about it.
See? See how dull and un-funny this post is? I mean I have my off days occasionally, some of my posts are better than others, but this one really takes the boring cake. I’ll just do us all a favor and refrain from blogging for the next few weeks. Check back in early June, when I will presumably be restored to good spirits.
Oh hooray, it’s 6:11, I can definitely go to bed now. See you in June.