This is what I remember about Friday: feeding the boy, hug-sandwich as we said bye-bye to his dad, finally getting the boy to preschool (I thought I was a slow eater!), speeding to Starbucks as forgot to buy coffee for home, speeding home, bypassing yoga DVD to position self in bed office with laptop, embarking upon ‘final’ revision of entire novel for four of the swiftest hours I have ever known, completely unaware of minutes flicking by as if they’re–what. Fireflies? No. We don’t have those here. Fleas? How about slick little fish. And now it’s night and everyone is sleeping and I’m wide awake after having sent in a submission without catching the error in the cover letter and they will think I can’t spell and think I am bllrrrgy and I’ve already groaned and pulled at my hair like a tragic Greek heroine, but so I had a misspelling, so what, in a way, because my novel is currently the best it’s ever been and that is something I definitely shouldn’t admit to—would you? Good night and may your weekend be filled with park playdates and successful future revisions between meals, naps, folding laundry and throwing the ball for the dog and, more than anything, here’s to early bedtimes for all.