Hmm

It's coming up. Last year Greg and I threw ourselves in the race and dragged ourselves through the mental mud, arriving at midnight with a manuscript title Dream, Baby. I opened the document for the first time since last summer, and I see that even the last paragraph has dual fingerprints:

In a moment, he was curled behind her, left arm wrapped around her left side. The same sweetness that he smelled the first time they slept together emanated from the back of her neck. Hugo had time to register one breath of it, before he, too, was snoring. Their two textured breathing patterns blended like a perfectly tuned “Om” in a class of fifth level Tibetan monks, soaring even above the air pumps from the building across the street. Sixteen hours later, they awoke together. The sun was shining. Darcie had somehow kicked the covers off of them in the night, and found that even with a breeze coming in through the open window, she was warm.

I don't know if I'll do it this year. It's a little scary pscyhologically, and I'm not even sure where I will be geographically.

Anyone thinking about it?