How I got here:
- Napped this afternoon.
- Felt the adrenaline already starting at dinner (rice instead of pasta, no heavy carbs to weigh me down), so I calmed myself down.
- Watched John Sayles' Lone Star with my wife. What a great movie.
- Showered. Brushed my teeth.
- Jeans, no pajamas for me.
The dangers of writing at night, as I've tried to prep for them, are darkness, sleepiness, and comfort. Here's how I'm combating them:
- Artificial light. Big medusa lamp, five bulbs, behind my head. One bulb at the other end of the couch.
- Caffeine. Tea steeping. First cup, chai with vanilla. Two bags.
- Leg pain. That's the real reason I slipped on the ice a couple of weekends ago, so I'd be able to stay up. It's sore, and I'll put an ice pack on it later. That'll perk me up.
I think that's all that's worthy of note for now. Let's get this party started. Where's Joe Bob Briggs?
Update: Don't forget to check out the progress of the three amigos: Chevy Chase, Martin Short, and Steve Martin.