So I finished my second draft. But I'm not opening any champagne bottles or anything yet because I think there's still work to be done. I continue to vacillate between megalomania and deep despair, tempered with the mind-numbing apathy that comes from sitting in a cubicle for so many hours a day.
And now I'd like to take a brief moment to declare my love for Garrison Keillor:
"In spring, a person's thoughts naturally turn toward what you would rather be doing than earning a living, and in America this usually means Being An Artist. This is the true American dream. Winning the lottery is a faint hope, becoming a sports hero is a daydream, but publishing poetry is the ambition of one-third of the American people and another third are thinking about writing a memoir."