After three consecutive nights of not being able to work on the novel, I am relieved to know that I can devote some time to it this evening. I have a feeling I should get used to having evening engagements, and therefore needing to guard my writing time. One week from tonight I know exactly where I'll be--in the last hour of my first class.

Even if the book doesn't ever go beyond the writing process, I am finding that it's a writer's bootcamp for me--I'm being conditioned for the writing life through the exercise of composing. I am thinking, actively, like a writer again. I am always processing a different element of the book now, the plot and subplots, character development, and certain specific scenes I want to work in to the story. It's gone from being an attempt at making a dollar and amusing myself and my friends to a very organic entity that I care very much about. Finishing this book is something I need to do for myself. I feel that I'm writing my own story and I need to find out what the heroine will choose for herself.

Dinner tonight was a simple affair of potato salad with scallions and red onions and crab spheres. I drank ginger ale, and that made it like a picnic for one. I'm noticing that my stressed finger injury from last week feels no better, though motility and function are still not compromised.

I'm a little put out with the UPS driver, who rang my apartment from the intercom at the front door of my building several times, but who disappared before I could buzz him or her in. When I say "several times," I mean several times in rapid succession, but when I activated the door release from my apartment, the person was clearly already gone. I'm going to leave a note tomorrow morning advising him or her of the fact that I will be home to receive the package after 5:30, and that if the delivery is before then, to please leave it at the office. I just hate that the person left before I could get to the door... I know that the package is my birthday present from Catherine, and tomorrow is the final attempt.

Unexpectedly, I had to give notice at work. There is a pending office relocation (as I've mentioned before) that will not be convenient for me for a couple of compelling reasons. A general announcement was made that anyone who will not be able to continue with the company after the relocation, should let his or her manager know. There's been some real turn over lately, and they don't want to be caught by surprise. I felt at that point that I would be remiss if I did not let the appropriate personnel know. So, it's official, yet nothing is really different.

Well, off I go to produce more pages...