I'm having major chair-butt problems right now. That is the affliction known to most writers where the butt full-out refuses to stay in the chair and allow the fingers to type stuff. I'm trying to chalk it up to recovering from the vaca and not that I'm trying to avoid finishing this first draft of the YA. Right now I can only see about 100 feet in front of me with the headlights on which I'm hoping is enough. I only managed to crank out about 1k words, but if I really get going I can do 2-2500 easy. Anything and I do mean anything is an excuse to get up. Dryer finished? Whoops, I have to get up and fold clothes. Mail came? You never know what might be lurking in there. Blog need writing? I'd better get on it.
I have to go to my pt j-o-b tomorrow with a meeting in the evening so most of tomorrow is shot. Thursday. I'm feelin' like Thursday is the ticket. I actually told Agent E that I was going to try to have the first draft for her by June or July. I know I can, I know I can, I know I can.
On this date: In 1998, the FDA approves Viagra.