I got a lot done, more than I expected, no matter my grumblings of yesterday.
In between the phone calls, the nagging dog - Maggie is a guest dog who constantly wants her back rubbed/scratched or fed (my dog, Saxon, is so intimidated by this bundle of eight-year-old Staffordshire muscle that she hides even at dinner time) or walked or whatever - fixing the coffee machine *gasp* (water wouldn't run through so I cleaned it; can't do without my cappuccino), shopping for food stuffs, I managed a hundred and fifty pages. WOOT!
Two packages also turned up; one for my mother and the other from Denmark, yay, under the tree they go! Add to that the seductive lure of three letters from England containing marriage certificates and a birth certificate for the family tree and it's a wonder I got anything done on the editing scene.
Tomorrow won't be as productive as I've got to go into town - then again, Maggie likes to wake me up at oh-my-Goddess-it's-early, otherwise known as five o'clock in the a.m., for a wee break. Since I'm up already and the sun is rising, it's the start of my day, too. I can't go back to sleep; tried it. Failed. It's a beautiful time of day and I spend an hour or so with the coffee, watching the news before heading to the computer.
If I can get the same amount of work done, then Friday I can finish off and do the story for Saturday. That's the plan, but, as always, Murphy might have something to say about that.