And on the Seventh Day, She Rested.

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My right eye has been twitching for about two weeks now.

I've also been wearing pajamas for two weeks.

I have nested in different parts of the house for the past couple months.  Apparently that's the way I work: I find a location in the house that is so inspiring! and I settle in, planning to live in that little spot for the rest of my life ... and then after about 5 days it wears off.  The spot is suddenly so uninspiring.  I find a new spot.

My final spot was in a bedroom upstairs.

It was a good spot.

I could focus intensely like I've never focused before.  It's the sound of the waves, I tell you.

I took a moment to take a picture of the sunset that greeted me on that final sprint to the finish.  And then I turned to the computer and took a picture of it, too.  It was a glorious moment, watching that mammoth file convert to PDF, page by page...

and you know what?  tears welled up in my eyes.  They weren't really tears of joy or relief, as in, "it's really over!" --  and they weren't tears of regret, either, as in, "it's really over??"  They were the tears I've had only rarely in life, at those brief, profound and intangible moments, which I guess I can only describe as tears of "woah".



So, what's next?

Well, this was all two days ago.  And I'm still in pajamas.  And my eye is still twitching.

So ... nothing is next.  A whole lot of glorious nothing, for as long as I can stand.  If you need me I'll be out on a rock.