I finished the zeroth draft of the WIP (let's call it TGK for now) last week, reread the whole thing in order this week, discovered all the repetition and extraneous crap (when you are writing every other day while teaching 3 classes, you lose threads and get sidetracked and forget what you wrote two-three-eight months earlier) and now we have a functioning draft one, about 4k lighter than it was a week ago. There's still a Rat round to go--she's my first beta reader, always and forever, amen--and then it goes to my agent. I think we're still a couple of drafts from worth a damn. Kudos to the writers who produce super-clean drafts that only need copyediting because I am not one of you.
I test INTJ on the Meyers-Briggs test, which, you know, take with grains of NaCl and all that, but it's true I like things to be finished, not hanging in limbo. Except manuscripts. Then I get to the end and think of all the ways I could've gone with the narrative, all the choices the characters could've made, and I become certain I have written total shit, and if only I could go back and rewrite--but that way lies madness.
Now I need to plan two classes and re-sisal rope a cat tree. And finish a small pile of knitting projects. Cat tree first.