48,312 more words to go! Day One is under my belt and it only took 3 hours to get 1688 words on the page. If we’re going at that rate, it’ll be a long November ahead of me. I’m amazed it was so difficult to actually push out 1600 words. When I originally read that that NaNo estimate of 1667 words per day, I thought it would be simple to get the words but the difficulty would be the storyline.
Well slap me silly and call me Sally, but the most difficult part was getting the words on the page. With a mocking cursor blinking back at me more than I’d thought possible in a 3 hour time period (and yes, in my head, that fucking cursor is laughing at my inability to keep it moving and type a word), I now remember what a pain in the ass it is to write something. Writing something good or worthwhile is even harder.
Sigh. Why do we put ourselves through so much turmoil?
This is exactly why I think I preferred poetry and short story during college than the novel. Even an essay was easier to write than an extended piece of fiction. It requires so much effort and cohesion, I just want to throw my hands up in the air and go “Arghhh!” Why does it need to make sense? I don’t need to make any sense with my poems and I’m called enlightened.
What’s nonsensical in one is profound in the other.
Only 48,312 words to go….
I think the word that sums up this week is exhausted. Or weary. And it’s only Wednesday. I’m so utterly tired of my path that I’ve got half a mind to just to shuck it all and blaze a new one without provisions or planning. I’m tired of being tired and being made to feel that who I am and what I do is wrong. Consistently.
So I’m closing my ears and turning my heart away because this shit is slowly killing me. And you can’t be bothered to care because you can’t see the forest for the trees.
So I’ve opted to actually do something for the next month. NaNoWriMo. It’s some form of nanananapoopoo, I did something you didn’t do.
At least that’s what I keep singing in my head this lovely Sunday. I figured I needed something to motivate me into actually doing something. If not there’d be another colossal failure to shove back into the closet.
I’m awesome at the short and brief and master of the unfinished. A god of the half starts. So taking this challenge on in November will be quite interesting. It will be an absolute terrible piece of work; I have no flipping clue on how to even begin a novel, let alone outline a story or even draft a character study. Will these people in my lines and lines of text even need names?
I guess only time will tell. Bring it November.
So we’ve decided on another move. Now let’s see if we ever reach our destination. I feel like my life is littered with a ton of these false starts. And each of these failures leave me a bit more jaded in the end. It’s a wonder I’m not a jagged pointy edge by now, although I think the The Hubby may interject here with a wordy counter argument. He’d say I’m nothing but prickly edges at such a tender young age. Sigh.
Rewrite #ihavenoflippingidea. I keep finding myself in a this odd oscillation of writing that makes for a chaotic scene here. I keep reading articles and blogs about sustainability, marketability, reaching an audience, any audience, and what have you. An utter cornucopia of crap I tell you.
So I’m done with it. Push the pile of advice and crap in the corner and start doing what I want. Because honestly, trying to follow some mold has taken the fun out of it all. Which is why my attendance here has been so spotty. Because it’s the worst kind of work trying to do something that’s just not ultimately you. I’m hopping around, pretending to be something I’m not which is utterly ridiculous, especially when no one is reading anyway.
So in the wise words of Cartman, “Whatever. I’ll do what I want.”
Another my puppy is so cute post. Deal with it.
I’m bored. And I tend to get myself in trouble when I’m bored. I hate being bored. But I don’t know how to get out of the rut of being bored. I guess it goes hand in hand with my laziness…. but dang it! I like being lazy. And that doesn’t help the bored part of me. Sigh. What a paradox I’ve become….
So instead of pondering the merits of the cesspool I call my life, let’s look at a boring picture together.
I totally warned you. Boring.
I don’t have much for you today, so I leave you with a pic of office shenanigans.
I’m rounding Day 5 of what I’ve dubbed The Plague. I believe its round 2 this season so a big ole ‘Thanks!’ to the asshole who cursed a plague upon my house. Next time, lets at least give my Hubby at least one fucking round, ‘kay?
Well, that’s not entirely fair… I wouldn’t really wish this on anyone, especially a loved one, but I’m so tired of being wickedly sick. I swear I’ve produced at least my body weight in snot (which is no small feat, let me tell you) if not in excess. Within two days, I’ve run through at least a box and a half of the big box of tissues meaning I’ve blown my nose no less than 264 times. Today, the count is probably closer to 400. Day 3 started with aches worse then any car accident produced and at the end of it all, I’ve decided I hate Mucinex and will not touch it unless I am on deaths door.
Which, with the rate I’m catching colds, may not be too far off.
Sorry, it needed to be said. At this point, I’m still producing a lovely amount of mucus, can’t smell, can’t taste, behind on work and the house is a mess. All in all a very productive week for me.
Now if I can get back to my life, that’ll be just jolly.
So in the vein of new year, new things, I’ve started to bring things back home, a sort of back to basics bootcamp for myself (like that alliteration?).
I opted for something simple and small to try cause you know there’s nothing better than turning a new page right to failure. So in combing through what little items I’ve pinned on my boards (they’re a bit bare right now but I’m warming up to it) I found directions for perfect home popped popcorn.
Perfect Popcorn sounded easy enough with delicious potential. I never liked the taste of microwave popcorn but didn’t snack enough on it to warrant the purchase of a popcorn maker (I’m cheap! Seriously). So doing this at home without having to purchase another kitchen appliance to store in the space we don’t have was oh so appealing.
Out I went to the local grocery store to buy kernels and canola oil. It was a pretty cheap purchase compared to buying the bagged microwave version. Maybe, if I feel nerdy enough, I’ll do the math to compare which is ultimately cheaper. Although, my labor costs being what they are, it might not be a fair shake.
In any case, results were much better than expected. I ate that entire bowl of popcorn to myself and left the Hubby high and dry when he came meandering down once the aroma wafted upstairs. I would say this was a super win! From now on, I will always make my popcorn this way.
*This post will be updated with a picture the next time I make it.