a table of one's own
I snuck out of the house early this morning and shacked up at Starbucks for a good six hours where I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. It was good. I was getting worried because I really haven't had a lot of time to work on the book since the holidays, and getting a look at my contract last week, while it made things all the more real and exciting, also got me feeling a little nervous because damn, I actually have to get this thing finished by July. IT WAS IN BOLD PRINT. But after putting in a good day today and falling back into the project, I'm feeling a little less worried. It'll get finished on time, and it might not even be half bad. (I hope. Oh please let it not be half bad. Or worse yet, all bad.)
However, after all that typing, I'm all typed out. So please excuse the insubstantial update. Above, by the way, is a picture of my writing camp at Starbucks. (The orange backpack is mine. It is huge because that's what I used to lug my breast pump to work in, and I just kept using it though it's probably much too bulky for everyday purposes.) I got there so early I even beat out the med students, who usually descend on the place and create little forts and tribal societies, buried amongst their syllabuses and Netters and whatnot. I even beat out the Work From Home Laptop set, who I was pretty convinced up until this morning lived under the condiment table when Starbucks closed for the night. That's right, Work From Home Laptop People, I beat you to one of the coveted big tables! Booya! For once, I did not have to sit next to the toilets! And I got a plug all to myself! MY VERY OWN OUTLET!
Oh lord, I am pathetic.