My first round of edits is done and turned in. With a 48 hour turn around time, no less. Not too shabby, if you ask me. Then again, the lingering effects of a serious lack of sleep in the past 48 hours may stay with me longer than the feeling of accomplishment.
Eh, it was worth it.
Now the waiting begins. And as far as I'm concerned, this part is worse than the sleep deprivation, the alienated family members, and even the painful discovery of far too many adverbs peppered throughout the book (setting up a literary game of battleship to wipe them clean from the pages.)
No, patience is not my friend. And maybe we could have been friends, if things had been different. If being patient didn't require such...well...patience.
And save your sermon on patience being a virtue. I've heard it all before. I have many good qualities, but that isn't one of them. And I'm okay with that. I've made my peace. Accepted my shortcomings, as it were. I can't keep beating myself up over things I can't change. Like my genetics...my fingerprints...the exact shade of hair color I buy each month to fool the world into thinking my hair isn't going gray.
Sorry...I'm rambling. Are we there yet?
Until the next time...I'll be waiting (im)patiently.