Our autobiographies are done.
And e-mailed off to our lovely social worker, M.
Huge sigh of relief.
I'm a pretty decent writer, but this weekend served to remind me of one very sad fact about my writing....
I...a m...s l o w e r...t h a n...m o l a s s e s.
Chris walks upstairs at 8:00 p.m. and announces, "I'm done."
Holy buckets, Batman! I still have 5 sections to go!
"You want me to make you something to eat?" he asks, with a kind look that says, "I feel your pain."
After a late dinner (thank you, HoneyBunny!) I remove myself from my chair in the living room (Ow! My butt!) to our kitchen table to try to pound out the last sections. It's painful how slow I am.
At 11:33 p.m. I type the final line of my autobiography. Almost 11 hours after I started working on it yesterday...and a grand total of 19 hours worth of work.
Then...turned everything (autobiography and attachments) into pdf.s and sent them off to M at around midnight.
Chris and I each wrote 10 pages...somewhat beyond the requested 5-7 pages each. I even included additional reading in the version of 4 attachments. How she is going to read all of this prior to our visits with her tomorrow I have no idea.
I hope she'll at least be entertained.