What’s that gooey pan of deliciousness, you ask? I’ll tell you, my friend, it’s brownies. A big pan of yummy, just-baked-and-waiting-for-someone-likely-named-Puddin-to-come-embarrass-himself-in-gluttonous-joy, brownies.
Err, well, a partial pan of them, anyway. The kids obviously executed their right of first refusal.
Still, this guy? This one is all mine. I kidnapped him from his pan buddies and set him gently in the bottom of the pristine white bowl, and I don’t even feel the teensiest bit bad about. Seriously, I feel worse about the bugs that died last summer by coming into contact with the windshield of my car in a dramatic, life-altering (their life, not mine), squishy demonstration of Newton’s First Law than I do about the barbaric manner in which I’ll soon be consuming that poor, innocent confection.
Yep, just as soon as I finish writing this post, I’m going to microwave the thing for 20 seconds, scoop a heaping Everest of ice cream right on top of it, and then rain dark chocolate M&Ms all over the thing like it’s my birthday or something. After that I’m going to grab the first spoon that looks strong enough to use as a shovel and, well, I doubt what’s likely to follow will be entirely family-friendly.
So, what’s with all the gluttony? Especially on Ash Wednesday, which for folk like myself, is kinda supposed to be about, you know, dialing it back a bit on the ovelling-shay uff-stay into your outh-may.
But, see, look, I was good all day, I swear! And the thing of it is, as I mentioned Monday, I recently finished the first draft of Project Tennyson (see progress bar to the right). Now, for those of you that have been keeping score, you know it took me a little longer than usual to hit that 100% mark on this novel. In fact, it took me from November 1, 2013 to March 3, 2014, which in total elapsed time is the second-longest I’ve taken for book yet, just behind Famine. Four months, for me, is a long time to hurl out 50,000 words.
Admittedly, though, I really didn’t spend that much time on it. If you’ll recall, Project Tennyson was my 2013 NaNoWriMo project, but I had to shelve it temporarily for other stuff just before Thanksgiving. Still, good reason or not, that unfinished progress bar hanging, stalled out at 67%, was making me kind of crazy.
All of which is to say that I’m pretty happy to have finally reached The End on this one. And, as is my custom, finishing a draft always always means a tiny little reward. Except, well, it’s been a rough week. AS it turns out, just as I finished hammering out words, some dreaded plague descended upon my frail, aging humanity. Meaning that as much as I wanted to celebrate reaching the finish line Monday evening or yesterday, my body had other plans. Plans that included excessive sleepytimes and praying that I’d manage to swallow a piece of toast without demonstrating that scene from The Exorcist from my couch.
Yeah, it was good times.
The long and short of is that I’ve been delaying my gratification for finally coffin-nailing the initial pass of this new book for days now. And as my stomach is finally back to cooperating with the rest of me, the time is at last nigh to reap the rewards of my valiant* efforts.
If you’ll excuse me, then, I’m going to go bury that brownie under an avalanche of sugar and then maybe, maybe even enjoy a weeknight movie and a beer.
You might want to look away.
Or grab a spoon and join me.