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Well, the Olympics are over. Whew. I still don't know exactly what handball is, or why tae kwon do seems to consist entirely of people bouncing on the balls of their feet, but there you go. I probably learned something along the way.

Now I get to do the important stuff - like find out for myself what the big to-do over Sherry Thomas is about, catch up on Dear Author posts, and write a few chapters of my own between readings of Liz Carlyle's entire backlist. And do some laundry and charge my iPod and see some actual sunshine before the summer is over.

Right. Chapters. Will get on that.

Where's the iced tea?

Back in 10

I guess I should account for myself, shouldn't I?

Well, I work in TV. And right now the Olympics are on. In China. Which is 12 hours ahead of my Eastern time zone. Which means everything is LIVE in the middle of the night.

Guess when all the TV people are working?

My wit, always faulty, has completely deserted me. My writing muse is gone. Along with my memory, my focus, and my concentration most of the time. Your brain thinks it's invincible, until your body is exhausted. Suddenly you're weak.

I can barely even read. Believe me, that is torture.

There are some fun bits, of course, and it'll be over someday. Then I'll get a good sleep and wake up ready to bore you guys about whatever again. In the meantime, I dream of sleep. I love it. I would marry it. And no, I do not make sense.

Go read some good books for me. Have some fun, go to the movies, and enjoy the Olympics on TV. A lot of people are working hard, in the middle of the night, to bring you those broadcasts, and they're really good. Make some popcorn and watch with your kids. Enjoy it.

G'night,
Abby