The traffic over to the portraits? Sucktitudinous. I mean, the traffic for the last few weeks has been slogolicious. Even normally easy nights have been all slog and not snog. Sheesh. By the time that I reached the mall, I was in short-temper station. (That I did not stream profanities at my wife, simply because she was in the way, is a demonstration of my self-control.)
The rewrite of Double Jack has jumped the rails and is now choo-chooing down main street. I have no idea where it is now going.