... is what I would have titled my book but some shmo already took it. Tonight, I printed a draft of my book at Kinkos. To hold this manuscript in my hands... well... it's topped by only two things in my life: the moment I met Murray, and the moment I held Gulliver for the first time.
Basically Murray and I have been in crisis mode since October. And we're technically still in crisis mode (I have a couple projects I'll need to address but I'll have them done by the beginning of next week) but the end is really, really, really in sight.
And so I present to you a video of me presenting my book to you. I couldn't narrate the video for some reason, so I had to do it all silent. But I'm showing you my disheveled, unshowered hair, my no-makeupness, the bags under my eyes, and my manuscript. My precious, precious manuscript!
UPDATE: Here I am, four hours after writing this post, at 1:00 a.m., after having done an edit on my heartbreaking work of staggering genius. I think that my video says it all. (Note: I use paperclips to mark the pages that have edits.) Please note the more disheveled hair, the deeper bags under my eyes, and the unexplainable red splotch on my forehead. Also, notice my general will not to live. Also notice that the shoulder angels are back, both of whom are now telling me to go to bed. (Realistically, I can breeze through implementing all of these edits in less than 2 hours. It's not the end of the world.)