I got up. Finished Annie Proulx's short story. It was massively depressing. Stillborn baby eaten by coyotes? Really? Dang. Then I worked on drawing and painting for many hours. Watched a lot of InfoMania and started watching New Amsterdam. It's on Hulu.com. About this guy who can't age or die until he finds his soul mate (some Native American curse thing he got when he arrived in America a few centuries ago, he is actually Dutch). It's interesting and I thoroughly enjoyed the two episodes I watched. His son is a nice character and since the short story I am working on is along the same lines, it is cool to study how they did it. Sad it was canceled.
So I worked and worked. When I sit back in my chair, I really notice the crick in my neck. It may be almost 3am but at least I don't have to roll out of bed till 10.
Blah blah blah.
Homework. I have a good pace going and I feel good about this. And for once a story won't be about barely getting to the minimum length.
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