So, I did end up getting…

So, I did end up getting my editor a reasonable amount of text yesterday, so now I'm waiting to hear back from him whether the voice is okay or not. He'll probably get back to me tomorrow, so I can start work on that again then. In the interim, a quiet Thanksgiving for us, I think. My aunt is having a dinner party, which we could, in theory, go to, but neither of us is really interested. (Heh. That's a bit of an understatement with regards to Kevin and meals with my relatives, but anyway...) I think the plan is to lounge around here, and probably make a turkey pot pie with the leftovers from last Saturday's early Thanksgiving. Sounds pleasant.

I've put a load of laundry in (I would've liked to do two, but we don't have the quarters for it, sadly), and spent the last hour or so re-reading some Pratchett. Very quiet, very pleasant. Next is final clean-up from the party -- sweep the floors, vacuum the rug, get the big cider pot washed, etc. Of course, we don't actually own a vacuum cleaner; maybe I'll make Kevin go out with me and buy one once he wakes up. I may watch a little tv while cleaning up the tv room and putting away all the clean clothes that have somehow ended up on the floor of my closet. There's a Babylon 5 saved on Tivo -- I'm starting to actually enjoy this show, about eight episodes in. Aside from that -- I have a mass of mail and paperwork and e-mail and bills to deal with. They've been put aside for days, maybe weeks, what with deadlines and all. There's no excuse not to deal with them today, though.

Lots of domesticity, lots of chores. Lots of Kevin, since he doesn't need to go in to the office today. Somehow, it seems like a good way to spend Thanksgiving. I had a feeling last Thanksgiving wasn't nearly so pleasant, but I wasn't sure, so I went back and took a look at last year's entry. It starts out cheerful enough, with dinner plans at Paul and Marcia's and all. But by the end of it, it's clear what kind of state I was really in:

"And right now, I would give a lot to have him here. Not doing anything in particular -- he could be chatting on the phone, just like in the picture. But he'd be here, and I could feel his presence in my apartment; I could listen to him talk; I could, if I chose, get up and go to him and lean against his chest and he would hold me."

He's sleeping right now, and since I'm not mopey, I won't go wake him up. But I could -- and when he does wake up, I can lean against his chest and have him hold me.

I know I haven't talked so much in recent months about how all this is going. In part, that's because sometimes I'm afraid if I dwell on how much I love this, how happy I am, it'll go away. Part of my brain is convinced that it's safer to go sweep the floor instead. I think I'll go do that. Later, munchkins.

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