Tomorrow, bright and very early, we rise and make our way to the airport and fly to Chicago and then fly to Madison and then take a shuttle to the Concourse -- and we'll be at WisCon! Always one of my favorite weekends of the year. We have a cat-sitter lined up. We have packing lists written. (One year, I forgot to bring socks. Lists are good.) We have... a lot left to do in the next several hours. Tonight will be busy. I haven't even decided what book to take with me on the airplane. (I'm nearly done with The Yiddish Policemen's Union, so it won't be that.) I have to do laundry, clean the cat boxes, push back the worst of the wreckage in the dirty kitchen, etc. After looking forward to this convention for the past year, it's rushed up on me sudden-like.

Of course, this being one of the busiest weeks ever at the day job didn't help. I've come home every night too tired to get anything done. The June issue of A Certain Magazine went to press yesterday afternoon, though, so that's a relief. I finally finished my freelance writing work last night... around 12:30 a.m. Oof. I'm utterly behind on my 5K-a-week novel-writing quota, which means I need to write 10K next week to catch up. So it goes. Maybe, just maybe, I'll get some good writing done on the plane or in airports, but I don't count on it. And I'm giving myself a total pass on working at WisCon. I need a vacation, damn it, and I'm going to by god vacate.

Hope to see many, many, many of you there! You can surely find me at Heather's reading on Saturday, and at the Strange Horizons tea party (Sunday, I think?), and at the Scribe party (I love their beer), and probably in the Governor's Club bar a fair bit... I'll be the dude with the shaggy messy hair and painted toenails and a clever t-shirt. Oh, wait. I guess that doesn't really narrow it down.