Oh, sweet sweet weekend, how I long for your embrace. Not that the week has been bad... just busy, and woefully short of the aimless-sitting-around time I so enjoy. (I'm reading Dishwasher by the famed Dishwasher Pete, and it's making me want to slack off very much.)

Originally, I had very little work to do this weekend -- just one 300-word article. Easy. But then I realized that, what with going to WisCon next weekend and not really getting my day off next week (I'll spend said day off flying on airplanes, and I don't work well on airplanes), I need to get a week ahead on my freelance stuff. So suddenly I have more like 2,200 words of writing to do this weekend. (Or in the evenings next week, which would suck, since we go to press on Wednesday, and my days at work will be long and busy.) Which still isn't bad, but it's a couple hours' work. Then there are my page proofs for Blood Engines to read -- I'm only about 20 pages in and have already found one line that partly disappeared (leaving only the last few words, which are incomprehensible without context) and a missing comma, so I need to go over the pages carefully. Ah, well. At least at home I can work with margaritas close to hand and take breaks as whim dictates.

We went to Berkeley last night to go to an informational session about doulas. Pretty interesting. We stopped at the Smokehouse for dinner. Mmm, food that's bad for us. Yum. When we got home we had a message from the print shop telling us our 'zines were ready a few days early... which means we could have picked them up on our way home last night. Sigh. Oh well. Heather has an appointment in Berkeley on Saturday anyway, so I'll join her, we'll rescue our 'zines, and while she does her thing I'll sit in a cafe somewhere and pore over page proofs. Doesn't sound like a bad couple of days, really, work and all.