There’s just one thing that keeps my from apologizing for my whining yesterday.
I spent about three hours going through the draft, cleaning up verbiage, deleting cruft, figuring out how I wanted to say something, and sometimes just telling myself this paragraph was good enough and I could always fix it in post. The really mysterious part was that it felt oddly easy to just finish my breakfast and start writing. So something worked. Maybe it was just realizing that I was running out of year. Maybe it was the whining. Maybe it was looking at the story twice a day until I was sick of not having it finished.
Whatever it is that worked, it better not be getting up at seven this morning, because no way am I going to keep that up.