So… it’s still November. I’m still doing NaNoWriMo. BUT. I
haven’t been able to work on writing for five – count them – five days
straight. Not good.
This does serve to illustrate one of the reasons why WriMos
go slightly insane by the end of the month. It’s called “Real Life.”
This year, we started with Sandy, the superstorm of
incredible bad-timingness. Our local schools were closed for almost a week, and
one middle school was even turned into a shelter. The weirdest part about this
was that I live in Ohio – not exactly ground zero, as far as the storm path was
concerned. However, power was restored to everyone in my City only a day or two
ago, so the impact was significant.
We spent the first days of November trying to contact our
friends in the hardest-hit areas, especially those in New Jersey, Virginia, and
New York, and making sure that our local friends and family got whatever
assistance they needed. I’m not the most selfless gal around, but even I had a
hard time focusing on my own agenda with all that going on. Of course, school
closures and horrible weather combined to produce cabin-fevered, cooped-up
children. By day three, there was no ADHD medication on this Earth that could
have kept Shorty from ricocheting off the walls. It was like he was competing
with Sandy to see which of them could knock my house over first.
Things got back to relative normality, and I decided to go
out with a friend. I had forgotten that I am Karma’s personal Slinky, however.
I have a history with stairs. It’s not a good one. With my customary grace, I
tripped up (yes, up) a flight of stairs and smashed the ever-loving hell out of
my left leg.
Hello, ice packs and ibuprofen. And today, I had the added
indignity of going in to the doctor’s office where A) they weigh you – every girl’s
favorite thing; and B) I was sent for x-rays, which were handled by technicians
younger, thinner, and more aesthetically pleasing than me. To add insult to
injury, they asked me how I managed to hurt myself so badly. I told them I was
just naturally graceful.
Did I mention that we had the presidential election on
Tuesday? I voted early by mail, but it didn’t help me avoid Election Day
distractions. Hellooo, live streaming. Goodbye, productivity. I tried to
resist, but Jon Stewart is just too damn funny to be denied.
Tonight was our parent/teacher conference for Shorty. I
should send his teacher an apology. Most parents don’t keep the teacher there
for an hour and a half. My husband and I together are like a vaudeville team
that time forgot. She was very patient, though, bless her.
All these hiccups in the road are behind me now, so my novel
should blossom and thrive unimpeded. Right? (It’s okay to lie to me on this
one.)
Shorty’s birthday is next week. My teenager’s parent/teacher
conferences are Sunday. I have editing jobs lined up in a queue, mocking me
with their not-doneness. Thanksgiving weekend looms. And those are just the
things that popped into my head. I’m sure I’m missing stuff.
I do not despair, my fellow WriMos. I have done this thing
before, and I know that where there is a will and a supply of coffee to rival
the inventory of an apocalyptic bunker, anything is possible.
Don’t give up now if you’re struggling – there’s plenty of
time!
And if you’re already at 50,000 words, I can only
congratulate you and say with absolute sincerity:
Go away. I hate you.
No comments:
Post a Comment