Anyhoo, catching up on my end-of-week writing tally: 600 and 700 new words on the page and 500 culled in a fit of editing on "Mortal Clay, Metal Heart."
But alas, nada over the weekend, which was generally pretty blah, overall. Took a holiday from my upper meds—keeps my tolerance from ramping up—with the result that I spent most of it crashed out on the couch in a limbo of napping and struggling (failing) not to nap. Managed to drag myself out of the house once for an eye exam—need new glasses and contacts—and that's it.
The gods of productivity demand a blood sacrifice (unrelated to the eye exam, 'cause otherwise, ewww...).