Home now. Ahhh. It’s good to be home. Travelling is wonderful beyond belief, but coming home is so wonderful, too. I showered in my own shower with my own scrubby poofy thing and my rose-scented body wash. My cats are crawling all over in ecstasy at my return. No story rejections awaited me. I had less than 200 e-mails, and most of them were spam so my In Box doesn’t look too terribly frightening.

That said, I’m doing everything I can not to panic about this coming week. Tomorrow is an SCA event, Baron’s Feast, which involves lots of eating and not much else. Socializing, I guess, and we’ll bring period games, and the Guild of St. Genesius will do some commedia. We don’t plan to get there at the moment it starts, and I wouldn’t be surprised if we leave a little early.

Monday I have massage and chiro, and then the franticness begins. I have tons of phone calls to make and e-mails to write (although I’ll be working on the latter tomorrow). I have the GP to finish designing (it was done, and then someone sent a crucial article late, without warning, so I have to add a four-page signature and re-design some stuff. Drat it all!) and eventually get copied and spindle and mutilate and stamp and mail. I have mail to go through, bills to pay. Tuesday I have an eye appt, and Albra’s coming to visit for two days. Wednesday night I think we’re going to the Queensrÿche concert. Thursday and Friday are reasonably free…I think. For now.

In between all of that, I have to mail two anthology stories (both finished, thank goodness), and write write write on Waking the Witch (formerly known as “Rowan [working title]”). The check for the workshop is written and I told Dean I’m coming, so now I’m committed. Eep. Eeek, even.

I know, a lot of that is repeated from yesterday or earlier, wasn’t it? I’m just a wee bit frantic. Well, not really. Not yet. I’m preparing myself for frantic. Fact is, it’s not too much, as long as I pace myself and don’t get distracted or lazy.

Tomorrow, or soonish, I’ll write up about today’s adventures, and then we’ll be all up-to-date. Insane (at least me), perhaps, but up-to-date.