I'm torn. Part of me wants to take a break. Wrote every day for 44 days, over which time I've created 60000 fictional words (actually, considering erasures, closer to 70K), and I'm fried. On the other hand, I'm almost done. I feel as if I just write some danged thing for those last two plot lines over the next three days, I'll be able to call it a draft (the final 18K words are going to need revising anyway, no matter how careful I am today or tomorrow.) I think I'm feeling superstitious, like if I take a break now, the thing will never get done, I'll forget my people and voices or develop a block or a giant brick will come tumbling out of a glider plane and hit me on the head. (Dang glider pilots and their pet bricks!)
Anyway, you go Doc. I know you just finished a draft and here you are, continuing to write. That amazes and impresses me.