I’m almost done with all the extended deadline stuff. If today goes well, I’ll be even more well on my way.

Tomorrow’s pretty busy. At the very least, I’ll be baking a dessert and shopping for a wedding shower gift for one of my friends, then going to said shower in the evening. If I get my 8 pages written early, I’ll also hit up several graduation parties for high school youth group kids.

In order to ensure reaching my goal to finish the manuscript by the end of May, I’m committing to writing 8 pages (roughly 2k words) a day between now and then. That’s more per day than during NaNo, but it’s only for two weeks, so I figure I should be able to pull it out.

I woke up this morning and couldn’t open my mouth all the way. Guess this means I have to resume my TMJ therapy exercises, because I’m pretty sure it was a new knot that restricted my jaw movement and I had to work it out. Things are cool right now, but I’d rather not flirt with the possibility of waking up one morning and not being able to open my mouth at all. Cuz that would stink.

Turned several pieces of laundry spotted pink this morning, for the first time in my life. Luckily, they were all Matt’s. No, wait. That’s unlucky. I’ll be breaking out the bleach and oxyclean to see if I can get them sparkling white again.

I talk in my sleep. I don’t mention it often because nobody can ever tell me much about what I say. Apparently I mumble most of the time, and you can’t make out words, or else the person who hears me can’t remember what I say in the morning. For the record, these people are generally either my mom, with whom I share hotel rooms fairly often, or Matt, for obvious reasons. At any rate, Matt couldn’t sleep last night and this morning he finally came through with something I said. So here you go, a dramatic recreation of my mid-night babbling:

Betsy (asleep): And they say we don’t have world class . . .
Matt (awake): Waits for a few moments, wondering how the sentence will finish. Food? Music? Books?
Betsy (finally): . . . golf.

And apparently that’s all I said. I have NO idea where it came from. I’m not even reading a book at the moment that even remotely involves golf. Who knows? It’s good to know I’m still loony in my sleep. I’d hate to think I was more coherent asleep than awake.

Now, since it’s been too long since I told you anything about Shiloh, I’ll say that she’s entered her “teenage” weeks. She pretends not to hear our commands, and likes to do whatever she pleases, thank you very much. We are disabusing her of the notion that this is acceptable. Also, she’s still darn cute:

Here’s a morsel from my last critical theory text on religious fantasy and science fiction, one that resonates deeply with me. A quote from Robert Seigel:

[In fantasy] we may discover something that can be represented in no other way, that otherwise would remain unseen. Fantasy ought to be important to Christians because we are concerned with the unseen world. A novel presents the visible world, the world that we see, quite literally. But there is no way directly to present the unseen world, whether it’s the world of the spirit, or the world of our own psyches, except through symbolic images. And fantasy does just that. It provides us with the images, the symbols, the archetypes to grasp what’s going on within us psychologically and spiritually. Without the ability to imagine the unseen, our spiritual lives are impoverished.

And now it’s time for me to write my eight pages. Have a lovely day.