my road-editing

I'm down to 14 pages.  You're asking what took so long and you are right to do so.  I have, as I often do when I travel too much, a terrible bout of the dizziness that seems so much like brain cancer but which is apparently nothing more than an inner ear problem.
I forced myself to exercise, despite constantly feeling like the earth was rocking around me and while it wasn't a lot of exercise and done in the heat which is now unbearable, I feel better, enough to count the remaining pages, 14 and the remaining days, 2 and realize that it is time to finish.
And I pour out my heart and soul into the words you will never see.
I have also gotten involved in the rounding thing which may or may not be a true rounding, but may be enough to pretend it rounds things out.  It is confusing, I know, but some things are only explained in confidence and not to the world, only my writing, the bearing of my heart and soul I give freely to everyone.  The confidences of others, well, at least they are fictionalized.
I suppose that there are many out there who share the irony of the China problem that I must mention here.  The Chinese are building islands with our money to extend their country out to take over the lands around them, building metaphorical bridges to cut off other countries too weak to stand up to them.
A couple of months ago, boats loaded with everything we have manufactured sat unladen-ed off the west coast due to a dock workers strike, even now the backlog isn't finished.  And yet we talk of going to war against this country that makes the technologies which we need to explode our bombs and arm our planes and we extract guarantees from them that they are not sabotaging the computers they sell to our military.  You think I'm kidding, exaggerating, but all those things have happened and I wrote a book about it years ago and yet CNN never asks me to speak on national tv with a copy of my book in front of me.
Even so, with all of this, if I'm to finish editing the book in 15 days that was written in 30, I have to buckle down. It is now 64,000 words, only 6,000 short of 'true' novel length.  While I cannot both finish in time and add the 6,000 words, it is enough and perhaps I will finish in time.
Tonight I wrote of the love I felt and how when I walk I want to tell you nothing more than I love you, but no one is out there, its only a blog written to a cold universe which cares only in the way of non-linearity which I do not understand.