It's never too early to throw in the towel

Well, it's a good thing I didn't sign up for NaNoWriMo, because this way I'm only embarrassed in front of my friends and other occasional readers of this LJ. This month I've managed to write on exactly three of the last 28 days for a not terribly grand total of about 3000 words, and I don't even have the excuse of a wretched schedule to absolve me - it's just been pure laziness and distraction. Yes, there are three days left in the month, but tonight is the ATC Board meeting, I have tentative social plans for tomorrow night, and by Thursday the kitchen will need decontamination. I'll continue to peck away at the novel; who knows, one of these months I may be overcome with a fit of logorrhea and knock out several chapters in a week. It could happen.

Apparently I have ruined "This Corrosion" for P after coming to the conclusion that the animal Andrew Eldritch feels deep inside is a hamster. Maybe I should have followed that comment with "No homo" to avoid unfortunate confusion and squickage, but I was actually thinking of totems and spirits at the time.

Unusually, the last couple of nights I've had dreams that I can remember. Not that they make any sense, mind you, being the usual surreal mixtures of people and places that have only tangential connections to each other. Some people say that dreams have meanings, but I prefer to think of them as the subconscious earning its keep by cleaning out the unused memories and odd bits that have fallen out of the brain's file cabinets. Kind of like Groundskeeper Willie, except better behaved. Mostly.

It's never too early to throw in the towel

Well, it's a good thing I didn't sign up for NaNoWriMo, because this way I'm only embarrassed in front of my friends and other occasional readers of this LJ. This month I've managed to write on exactly three of the last 28 days for a not terribly grand total of about 3000 words, and I don't even have the excuse of a wretched schedule to absolve me - it's just been pure laziness and distraction. Yes, there are three days left in the month, but tonight is the ATC Board meeting, I have tentative social plans for tomorrow night, and by Thursday the kitchen will need decontamination. I'll continue to peck away at the novel; who knows, one of these months I may be overcome with a fit of logorrhea and knock out several chapters in a week. It could happen.

Apparently I have ruined "This Corrosion" for P after coming to the conclusion that the animal Andrew Eldritch feels deep inside is a hamster. Maybe I should have followed that comment with "No homo" to avoid unfortunate confusion and squickage, but I was actually thinking of totems and spirits at the time.

Unusually, the last couple of nights I've had dreams that I can remember. Not that they make any sense, mind you, being the usual surreal mixtures of people and places that have only tangential connections to each other. Some people say that dreams have meanings, but I prefer to think of them as the subconscious earning its keep by cleaning out the unused memories and odd bits that have fallen out of the brain's file cabinets. Kind of like Groundskeeper Willie, except better behaved. Mostly.