DONE!

I hereby declare To The Shore officially finished!

Last year at around this time I said that, but that was just the main text: still ahead of me lay the daunting task of editing the whole thing. Now no more editing. No more nitpicking. No more changing little details. No more agonizing over choosing between synonyms for the most effective way to say something. The more I fiddle with it, the more it's going to start diminishing from here. I must stop. It's time to pay attention to my next baby, little book two.

Unless there are typos.

But that doesn't count as changing it.

Sane? Not likely.

Today's sanity score is 143. I just keep getting crazier and crazier. There's so much going on, and nothing getting done, and my mind just keep spinning around so much with physical and mental and emotional pain.

I know, all blogs are about these days is people whining. We talk to hear ourselves talk, and I've got nothing to say but "Waaaahhhh!"

Another thing I've noticed lately in the past week or so is that my typing skills have plummeted. It takes me so long to type anything because I have to keep going back and typing it over. My brain catches the mistakes, and I'm OCD enough to insist on fixing them, but my hands are not cooperating with my brain at all. It's very disconcerting, and makes me feel dumber than ever. I spend so much time online, and talk to several of my friends only in text - - it's like not being able to talk!

I suppose I should update about my doctor's appointment, but that's just more whining, I'm afraid. Xrays show I have bone spurs in my heels and I got Cortizone shots in both heels. Ow. Whine. Stay off your feet as much as you can, ma'am. Tschya, right, like that's even vaguely possible. I'm busy all the time it feels like. Problem is, the shots are helping, so I'm feeling better, so trying to do more. I'd stay off my feet if they hurt worse. Catch 22.