One. More. Day.

I really can't even think anymore. I managed to stare blankly at some afternoon TV when I got home this afternoon, rather than sit here at the computer trying not to read everything there is to read about the election. Otherwise I might likely have ceased breathing. I've never been particularly good at handling stress.

One more day. There's no question that there'll be lots and lots and lots of work to do after tomorrow regardless, but the possibility of having this country make a different kind of statement about what we'd like to stand for from now on is so wrenchingly promising I can barely stand it.

Distraction

I'm a total basketcase in these last hours before Tuesday. J.'s face falls every time someone brings up anything to do with it lately, because she knows she'll lose me for another hunk of time as I spin off into preoccupation and acute worry. But I managed to stay distracted for the better part of the day thanks to a visit from Michele, who made the trek up on the bus in the brilliant November sun. The novel is already lagging, but I'm about to peck out a few hundred words before we head off to my cousin's for dinner...

Actual November!!!

It's November, and that means novel writing and daily blogging. We're off to launch the grayest month at mom's, but I'll be back and blogging and chaptering away tomorrow. Happy November!