I'm on a deadline. I've got to get through a manuscript and make it readable in less than five days.
I've got my son playing catch up in his school work.
I've got two wedding to attend, one to help cater, a garden to weed, and a church meeting to see to.
And I'm going to Washington DC for my first ever romance writers' conference. By the time you read this, I'll be there, sweating bullets in fear.
You wouldn't believe it, but I'm wondering how I'm going to get any sleep. My roomies are partiers and the schedule looks brutal as I am without a good night's sleep.
There's the Death By Chocolate party, something a few veterans has warned me is a dangerous affair should I get in the way of 100 romance writers with a hankering for brownies.
And the Harlequin party. I have yet to receive the invitation, so maybe my editor has decided that the manuscript I turned in last month wasn't worth an invite to the party!!!
And the workshops. Everything from how to murder someone to how to hide the body. Femme Fatales up there in stilettoes and linen business suits, scaring the heck out of me with their intimate knowledge of handling murder plots.
Yup, I'm what my kids call a 'Newb'. Newbie. Wet behind the ears, a babe in arms when it comes to conferences.
But some of the ladies on this very blog have volunteered to take good care of me. I'm sure they will, as long as they don't attend those Femme Fatale workshops.