From three years ago, a memory:
The weather is crappy. My house is a mess. The laundry that requires doing has reached critical mass. I just got a submission rejection email. But none of this matters because I'm so stinking happy I don't recognize myself. And I'm pretty sure I'm awake.
Working on a repeat. In direct opposition to popular belief, lightening does, indeed, strike twice in the same place. Repeatedly, actually.