I could, in theory, write the remaining 13,000 words tomorrow, but I'm having brunch with Nalo (who is in town (from Canada) to give the keynote speech at the Gwendolyn Brooks conference), and that's just more important than killing myself trying to do it all tomorrow. Not to mention killing my fingers. The current plan is to go to sleep shortly, wake up around 7 (daylight saving time), and write until 10 or so. Meet Nalo for brunch at 10:30, and while it'd be lovely to linger, should definitely head home again by 12:30 latest. Home by 1-ish, then writing in the afternoon. If I can put in eight hours of writing tomorrow, I should be in reasonable shape to finish on Monday. That's the plan, anyway. I make good plans. Sometimes they don't bear so much resemblance to reality, but that doesn't detract from the inherent worthiness of the plans themselves.
What I did do today was write some, run out and pick up some art supplies, come back and do sari fabric casings for three journals to sell at World Fantasy, write some more, and make another collage (I actually re-did one this time, "On the Uselessness of Time Travel", in part because I really like the poem, but mostly because I forgot to take a photo of the last one, so I did this in a similar style, and I'm pleased with it).
I also watched a lot of tv lounging on our new futon. The futon itself isn't new, but the frame is, and it's very comfy to lounge on. Tivo caught a bunch of Voyagers that I hadn't seen before, so that was cool, and I also watched the new episode of Firefly, which was really pretty good. This show is improving a lot faster than most first-season SF shows. Maybe Star Trek lowered my standards for first-season. :-)
Anyway, fingers hurt, so one more sit-com and then bed. Sleep well, munchkins.