Proofs

I just spent the day editing the proof of Betty Being Bad, while taking care of my daughter, who had her wisdom teeth pulled today. Considering what she's been through, I think I'll pass on complaining about my back aching, and my eyes stinging from staring so intently at the screen. Never again will I feel critical of a little typo in someone else's published work. After a while, you start seeing what you think is there, what should be there, and not what actually is. (It's like those first few months of dating, when you're still in the honeymoon stage, and you believe him when he says he only drinks a beer now and then.) Still, writing beats the heck out of ringing up groceries which is what I have to go do  now. Yippee!