Out my window: the one-day-waned blue moon, looming large over my apartment.
On my laptop: Open and largely empty files for the companion grant I keep convincing myself I’m going to sit down and write. I need someone to give me a due date. One of you, even. Someone. This no due date nonsense is ruining me.
On my lab server: the big project I’m working on, running, finally, after weeks of delays.
In my bedroom: a large cardboard box full of syringes and pills.
In my fridge: seven boxes of FSH injection pens.
Next week, everything becomes very real. Lupron injections start. Meetings with my boss about this project ramp up. I leave for a conference, and a weekend away with Pea.
So I am off to finish reading the fifth in a ridiculous young adult series that I have been devouring this week (the Mortal Instruments), and catch some sleep.