Today, I am the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything.
No, I’m not being full of myself. I’m just saying that I’m 42. Apart from the whole ultimate-question business, it’s probably going to be a quiet day. I have yoga class in about 45 minutes, I have a Groupon for a massage that I need to use before it expires, and for dinner I want to go to Schlafly Bottleworks (this will be news to Mikey because when he asked me last night, I said, “Ugh, I don’t know”), because sticky toffee pudding is probably the best birthday cake.
And I have to finish that damn ghost story. I think I’m going to change the name to that: “That Damn Ghost Story.” It has a nice ring, don’t you think?
There’s no rest for the wicked or the weary after that. There’s a closed call for another story that’s due at the end of the month, and I have no idea if I’m going to make that. I have two ideas for that one and don’t know which one to pick. Then there’s a story due at the end of the year that I’ve already started, and I’m looking forward to writing that one. The anthology is an erotic one, but my story is going to fall more on the other side of steamy. Heck, it’s going to involve a Tony Bennett song.
And then there’s the little matter of the first draft of the second novel due in December.
I know, I know… Don’t Panic.