Well, since I've been keeping a running account thus far about where I am in the work cycle, let me jump out of the topic just a bit and talk about running.
Because I am now putting myself into the "Cone of Silence."
Nobody is talking to me. I'm not talking to anyone.
I've run in (and completed) around 30 marathons in my life. Yes... the ones that are actually 26.2 miles long. I consider myself to be a former marathoner, though, because the last one I ran was about 4 years ago (and I got my fastest time in it, too).
Writing is kind of like running a marathon.
Except you're sitting down, and not running.
And you can drink beer or coffee while doing it, and you usually won't spill it down your chest.
But there's nobody standing on the side of the road cheering you on.
And you don't have to wear special shoes when you do it.
But you do hit walls somewhere along the course, every time, and they can hurt like hell.
And when you finish, you ask yourself, "Why the hell did I just do that?"