I can't believe it: I actually made all my deadlines. And jotted down an outline for a new short story while I was at it. Why do the best ideas always hit when I'm swamped? I really wanted to start writing that one right away. And it's demanding to be written; sentences and images keep nibbling at my mind, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.
But now I'll think I'll relax for a bit. On the menu tonight: a walk with friends, and then some witchering, unless I finally give in and start that story. And only three days till the first week of my summer vacation, yay!
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