Today about three hours into the the four hours of Study Hall, I squirmed around in my writing bed and made squealy noises under my breath. There was a novel being written in the next room. I didn't want to disturb its progress, but I had to express the "yippee" moment that happens when you smack down a period on the last sentence of an essay. And in this case, an essay I've been working on, often in despair, for six months.
I am certainly not going to read it over for awhile. The way it wanders all over the place, the possible muddiness of that middle section - I'm not thinking about that. Whatever I find, what I do know is that there's a there there. Over these months, I was never sure. Let's party.