The beginning of tomorrow will suck mightily. The later bits should be good, though.

We have to get up while it's still dark tomorrow morning (I may not even go to sleep tonight) to catch our shuttle to the airport. We have a 6:30ish a.m. flight. On the bright side, we'll be in Madison before 4 p.m. if all goes well. Which means we'll actually have time to set up Heather's art show stuff before dinner (everyone must come by and see her gorgeous beaded flowers and other wondrous things, and buy stuff!). I actually have way more 'sponsibilities than usual this year, but it's all on Sunday -- a reading in the afternoon, and a panel Sunday night. So Friday and Saturday I can concentrate on conversation, books, and booze, which is as it should be. We'll have copies of the new ish of Flytrap, a couple of back issues, and I'll bring a handful of copies of Little Gods -- the wonderful Deborah Layne of Wheatland Press has offered us some table space, and we may sell some at the Small Beer table, too.

It's my day off today (rainchecked -- or workchecked -- from last week, when it was too busy for me to take a day off), and man, I need it. I'm spending the day doing last-minute stuff, figuring out packing, etc. So far this morning I've confirmed our hotel reservation (after a groundless paranoid break during which I worried I'd never actually made a reservation!), called the shuttle company to get a ride at three-freaking-forty-five a.m. tomorrow, loaded my iPod with audiobook goodies, started some laundry, and made a packing list. Still have to run out and go to the bank, a grocery store, etc. It's gray and chilly today, too. Bleah. Hope all the good weather has gone to Wisconsin.

But first, a shower.

(Don't you just love these daily-minutiae sorts of entries? I know I do!)

Okay, I wrote a 2500 word story called "The Frozen One" which I can read in about 12 minutes. It's in the form of a monologue, which takes place in real time, internally described as lasting "about ten minutes." It's a science fiction story with an epic fantasy story nestled inside it, with a bit of psychological case study embedded inside that, and features a cross-dimensional cameo from the protagonist of one of my best as-yet-unpublished novelettes (and in this story that character dies!). I'm fond of this little piece. Perhaps inordinately so. And I won't even have time to get any perspective on it before I read it on Sunday, so if it turns out that it actually sucks, you'll just have to forgive me.

Went out. Ran errands. Etc. Heather's getting off work early, so she should be home soon, and then we'll finish up packing and so on. And try to go to bed about 8 or 9 p.m. so we can actually get a night's sleep before waking up at 3:00 a.m.! I'm signing off now. May or may not update from the convention.