No, I was wrong

Now I feel like a weight is off my shoulder. The Enemy Within is off and heading toward McFarland.
It took longer than I thought. First, visiting the library to print it—and I’m quite pleased that I not only found my way there with only wrong turn (though in downtown Durham with all its one-way streets, even one wrong turn can lead to difficulty—and in this case, it did) and no wrong turns going home. Then, off to Walgreens for packing tape. Then home, where I sorted out the 50 photographs and posters, marked their backs, place dthem in protective plastic, rolled the posters back into tubes … then off to the post office at last!
No question this would have been easier back in Fort Walton Beach, where a Target (for the tape) and the post office are only about five minutes away. But on the other hand, I can’t imagine how I’d have finished it if I’d been working full-time at the Log (even conceding that I would have saved time by not packing and moving, and by all the snuggling I wasn’t getting). And I’m not sure there’s anyway I could have made it through the conspiracy episodes of X-Files without watching online on Netflix; TYG’s computer supports that, my laptop doesn’t (the fact I’m also happier being up here with her goes without saying).
It’s not just the relief of meeting the deadline, but the lifting of that sense of focus. The past week or so, the book’s been like a neutron star, drawing my mind into its orbit. Even before that, I was structuring time around it for almost a year. To be without that … it’s exciting.