Book, done, buffed, polished, out of here. Wave bye-bye with me; that's six pounds of paper I don't want to look at for at least another month. My finish line reward: Survivor in Death by J.D. Robb and a scalding bubble bath, soon as I feed the troops and drink my own dinner.
The finish line is not a place of celebration for me. It is the collapse freezone. But it is a lovely place to admire while you're in that limp prone position waving your little thank you Jesus it's GONE flag. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, more satisfying that typing that last line on the last page of the last chapter.
Hmmmm. I may be a nice boss and let myself have a day off tomorrow so I can watch Roy Marsden play Adam Dalgliesh in Cover Her Face (that was the reward for finishing the book before this one; never got out of the chains long enough to watch it.)
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