I'm beginning to feel somewhat less crazy-eyed. Thanks to yesterday's rain, I couldn't do any outside work, so I spent time on my mat, then edited a chapter and starting looking at page proofs and answering emails and generally catching myself up on desk things. I don't know what today's weather is supposed to be. Maybe I can get into the garden, but I also have a meeting this morning, and then a friend from the northcountry is stopping by, and then I need to go to the grocery store, so who knows.

At least it's Friday, and at the salon last night I wrote one decent draft, and now outside a mockingbird is preening and trilling and I am sitting in a clean and tidy room and nothing presently is going wrong. Still, I have leftover jangle--from car worries etc.; from the sudden influx of work work work schedule schedule schedule that has invaded my email; from the chain of end-of-summer responsibilities: firewoodcompostpilefurnacecleaningharvesthurryupgeteverythingdonegeteverythingdone . . . What I ought to do is take the day off from editing and just let myself write and read and putter in the garden. Whether I do  that or not remains to be seen.