I'm not going to lie. I'm short of where I should be.
According to the helpful NaNoWriMo site where I upload my word count with fear in my heart and stomach, I'm projected to finish on December 7th. Thanks, helpful website.
Sure, yesterday I worked a double shift. Passable excuse. But tonight? Tonight, I skipped the gym and got Chinese food and watched three hours and twelve minutes of Gossip Girl (Blair and Chuck just cannot get it right!) and then wrote for a bit. But then I had to wash my hair. No, really. And I'm probably going to watch I Know Who Killed Me for roughly the 3oth time (though in my defense a co-worker had borrowed it for quite awhile). I am also waiting for a phone call saying that my dearest Kate had a successful C-section and that Margaret Jane is out and kickin'.
The main sticking point is that I have come to a pivotal point in the story that I am not ready to tackle until I can give it my full attention. Unfortunately my full attention won't really be in affect until Sunday, my first day off in two weeks. At which point I will be even more behind. What did I say earlier, that I'm not going to panic?
I'm not going to panic.
She said as she panicked.
If only this blog could towards the words. Maybe I could pull a sort of modern Pale Fire and work myself into the text.
In conclusion I don't appreciate it when people make inappropriate phone calls in public, like when I was waiting for my Chinese food earlier (they gave me enough fried tofu to build a miniature replica of the Eiffel Tower, by the way) and another woman waiting decides to make some phone call that included information like, they banned him from flying since he threatened to bring explosives on, and I used to just say sure you can drop your kids off thinking the mom just needed a break but really she was going on a crack run, and "So I should call Adult Protective Services then?" Lady, you should call whoever you want, but do it in private because I'm just trying to get some fried protein here.
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