Finished the revision of "Lakshmi's Diary". What surprised me most about it is that I liked the story much more than I thought I would. I had this vague feeling about it as a sort of self-indulgent piece with a whiny, detached narrator. And maybe it is, but I like it that way. I like her, too. I think I probably like all of my protagonists, even the rapist one, so feh! to those who don't. It must come with knowing them so well; even though I wouldn't want to be friends with some of them (most of them?), I still can't help liking them, knowing their insides the way I do. It's sort of like the way you can be turned on by the body of someone you love, no matter how much that body changes over time. Maybe it's like that. I think.
It's only noon. I finished two revisions! I'm not really sure what to do with the rest of my day -- I mean, I have plenty to do, but part of my brain is convinced that I have now worked hard enough that I should reward myself with Disney movies and bonbons. Sadly, I have neither here at home, so I will probably just eat a yogurt and work some more instead.
