Where's the Afterglow?
I finished a book late Sunday night and put it in the mail to my editor yesterday morning. It was the first book I've been able to write without pulling any all-nighters since my kids were born. Major accomplishment. I'm actually a person with relatively normal sleeping patterns again after enduring my daughter's first two years of sleepless nights. (Her nickname should be Pop-Up Baby, because that's what she did every time we put her in her crib.)
But anyway, life is good. I sleep, I write, I have a life. And so now with my latest book done, I should be basking in the afterglow. I should be thrilled with my well-restedness and my sense of accomplishment. Instead, I'm in a weird funk, so overwhelmed by all the stuff that needs to get done--stuff I had to put off while finishing the book--that I've sat hunched in front of my laptop all day catching up on email.
Bleh. I feel like a slug. I need to get off my butt and do something else.