Oh, good grief! I looked back through these blog entries and saw that way back on 9 February I was about to start a revision of Chapter 7 of my novel. It's exactly a month later, and I'm still working on Chapter 7. That is just sad. Pathetic. As in Puts Me In Dumbfounded Despair kind of pathetic. I used to break into tears over the fact that I had no life, that all I had was my writing, day in and day out, all I did was write, write, write. A chapter a week.
Now, what have I discovered? I have so much life going on that I have no time to write. I've been desperate to squeeze in a few paragraphs in a four-hour stretch here, a two-hour snippet there. And a month later, I've still not reached the end of Chapter 7. I'm never going to reach my deadline.