1. Getting out of the house really is a spur to productivity. I'm not saying that the revising that's been happening has been brilliant, but it's been happening. Albeit only in chunks of two or three hours a day.
2. I had no idea that the tiny town in which RU is located (and whose independent coffee house is the most charmed of my current writing locations) had such a large population of vaguely hippie/punk/alterna/biker/activist types. Or maybe it's the coffee shop that draws them?
3. Going for seven solid days without any in-person interactions other than with baristas and cashiers is a recipe for such crazy in-own-headness and freakoutery that I cannot recommend it. But after going out with a friend tonight and lining up activities for the next two nights, I almost literally can't remember what I was so overwrought about.
4. I'm again thinking seriously about getting a cat. The other morning, just before it was light, I was awakened by a repeated mournful noise just barely audible over the fan. In my cracked-out and disoriented state (it's been all about the sleeping pills around here this summer--but don't worry! they're non-narcotic and non-habit-forming!) I couldn't figure out where it could be coming from. Eventually I staggered over to my bedroom window and peeped through the blinds to find a small black cat on my balcony. He met my eyes and then raced down the stairs. I fell back asleep and when I woke up I had no doubt that I was finally going to do it. (Actually, I think I'll first buy some Claritin, deliberately put myself in the way of various cats, and see how it goes.)
5. I'm so over this chapter. I'm really thinking that it could be half its length (51 pages in its prior draft) and still contribute exactly as much value to the project--with the added benefit of not making those reading it want to kill themselves. Am slashing and burning accordingly. If it's not done by the end of the summer, I may have to set fire to my apartment.