Although let's be honest, I was only looking forward to the food.
So I just finished a draft. Four months, and far, far too many words later, and I actually wrote a conclusion to my novella of a draft.
I have this very strange feeling in my stomach...
Twenty minutes ago, when I knew this was going to happen, I went into my family room, kissed my parents on the cheek, and told them they were great. (Note to self: this should be done more often, not only when you finish 40-page drafts).
I think parts of the draft really bite, and it's far too long, but at least I've got something to work with. (Ben S.: Are you ready for this baby? Begin to prepare yourself. Although I think it needs a week of editing before it's ready for you.)
My guy is in the hospital again, by the way. I'm going to see him tomorrow.
This has all been so strange and rather sad...
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