Winding down

For the three hours, I haven't been able to sit in my chair for longer than 15 minutes.

I keep getting up for more water, to crack the window open or closed a fraction more, to double-check that the dog doesn't have to tinkle, that the cat isn't nibbling on my newly sprouted papaya plants, and that deer aren't gobbling up my gladiolas or cleaning out the bird feeders.

I can't sit still 'cause I'm winding down. I'm on chapter 23 of 'Brake Fluid' edits and I know I can finish today.

I'm at the lake with Jackson's body.

...and I'm damn close to my guestimated post-edit-word-count of 55,000

(I'm at 53,298 and have one and a half lean chapters to go)

It's 3pm PST, and I know I've got at least two hours before the husband comes home.

Maybe an hour before the dog decides it's time to go outside, run around, and make a lawn sculpture.

Ten minutes before I need another glass of ice-cold water.


So why can't I stay in my chair and concentrate?