Not the Home Stretch, Just Stretching toward Home

I'm sitting in Coffeehouse with Parking, wishing that someone would either email me or walk in and keep me from just staring off into space, which is what I've been doing for the last twenty minutes. I am here to work. But the world is not helping my work. Between the Allergies from Hell (or maybe it's a cold -- my immune system is probably in the toilet) and some terrible news I'm not in the mood to blog about (nothing academic or anything), I don't want to do anything. WSF is trying his best to suspend carrots at regular intervals (Spidey 3 this afternoon), but this workhorse is just exhausted. In spite of a truly alarming amount of coffee, all I want to do is go to sleep. I'm really tempted actually, except that I would probably get home and then stare at the ceiling. Or cry. Crying is always a good option.

On the other hand, I need to get some work done. I really need to be done with this second draft very soon. Peppy Advisor already read the Intro and two chapters! I have to get cracking if I'm going to be able to turn stuff over to my readers by next Tuesday.

So this is the deal I'm making with myself. I will write down a few notes about what I think needs to be done with this next chapter, which likely doesn't need a lot of work. Then I will go through my paper copy of the chapter and make some notes and instructions for edits. Then I will go home and sleep. Notes and notes should take me an hour tops. Then sleepity sleep sleep. That sounds reasonable.

***Update, exactly 62 minutes later ***

I've written a bunch of notes all over the chapter printout and noted a couple things I have to look up at home. When I wake up after my much-needed nap. The question is: can she sleep??? I'll keep you posted. I know. You're riveted! Now that your semesters are over, all you want to do is spend your days reading my blog.

Ouch. I bit my tongue while it was so firmly lodged in my cheek.