The deadline for the sequel to EVERNEATH is coming up. Fast. And hard. So I've sorta had deadlines on the brain.
It reached a boiling point last night when Sam's entire extended family went to dinner. Above all the chatter that twenty people make, I kept hearing the word "deadline".
I wasn't even part of the conversation, but I could hear the d-word being said at one end of the table. Over and over.
Were they discussing my deadline behind my back? Were they taking bets as to if I would make it or not? Were they consulting the odds-makers? (By the way, it's 4:1 that I'll make it.)
Finally, I snapped. "Could you all please stop talking about my deadline?!"
They looked at me like I was a little nuts. Then my sis-in-law pointed to something on the table.
It's a lime. And it's "dead". Can you guess where I'm going with this?
Yep, that there is a dead lime. A DEADLIME. It was in my sis-in-law's Diet Coke. And it was all anyone could talk about.
Until I yelled at them.
Somebody help me.