2011-12-05 - 12:40 p.m.
Wrote the first chapter the other night, in a white fog. It felt good. I haven't felt that kind of fast, hot joy in a long time. You don't feel that when you revise. Only when you put pen to blank paper.
My friend is having her second baby, right now. I don't feel all that grown-up. Some days, I do. Other days, I feel 18 or 25. I treadmilled the other day. That made me feel grown-up, in the wrong way. Something about that thump-thump and the whining of the belt as you chug along, going nowhere.
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