I should be sunk in the depths of literary depression, since my word count did not rise much last night. I was "bad" and wrote replies to emails last night.
But the weekend is approaching! How much I will write this weekend? Why, thousands of words, of course! How can one be depressed in the face of so much potential? Sure, I have a dinner party to go to on Saturday, and a soccer game on Sunday, but I should be able to fit in the necessary 10 to 12 hour stints around that.
In other news, I bought a Swiss Army Knife to replace the one that was confiscated by the airport security. I think that there should be some kind of system to be able to retrieve those on the return trip. Maybe bags like you put film in to be processed. Write your vital info on the bag, get a receipt slip, and then on the way back, pick it up from some little office on your way out of the airport. I'd even be willing to pay a small charge to do this.
But things are just things and I guess it gives us an experience in letting go of material things.