A peak into my window (be careful on that ladder, you're up on the third floor):
Blue pajamas. A large green couch. A small blonde dog missing a tooth. Editing, editing, editing. Sending a copy of manuscript to my agent and two trusted readers for their comments, feeling pretty good about myself. Little happy dance, a la Miss Jackson: I'm in...CONTRO-OL. I'm. In. Con-trol.
Two days later: noticing that there is a large chunk of Chapter Three floating inexplicably in the middle of the Preface. Beating head against wall behind large green couch (we need to hang a picture there anyway...) Listening to husband reassure me that these three lovely people will not decide I'm a useless hack because of this mistake, that it's not as if my oversight was immortalized in 100,000 print copies in 7 different languages. Nonetheless feeling like my Mother must have the day she dropped me off at nursery school wearing my favorite red and blue plaid pants with my beloved orange print shirt, announcing, "She dressed herself today..."
Last night: Same blue pajamas. Same green couch. Same dog. Hubby and I jumping up and down on said couch, screaming, "Go - Go- Go- Go!" as Tom Brady leads the Patriots down the field to score a touchdown, make the 2-point conversion (I think that's what it's called) and then the new kid who is not Adam Vinatieri secures a place in our hearts by making a HUGE, GORGEOUS field goal to beat the San Diego Chargers. All is happy in the Ryan Hood :)