Weekends seem so long these days, which is kind of funny because I can still remember times when the weekends arriving were a big deal because it meant no school (never no work, because I never had one of those Monday to Friday jobs like normal people), but now the weekend feels like a huge pothole in the middle of my feverish writing life. I've gotten to the point where I like writing so much that I don't really feel the need to take a break from it and so the weekend is just a couple of days where I'll won't get anything done and instead clean the house. I hate that. Maybe the time's come to add some writing time to the weekends, an hour or two a day, so I won't feel so derailed come Monday.

Anyway, I'm still working my way through the next draft of the outline, trying to make everything come together. I feel good about it at this point.