I committed to do NaNoWriMo this month, and I am finding it incredibly difficult to stick to my commitment. The election did not help, but now the only way to get anything done is to turn off the internet, and I highly recommend said course of action. I've realized that our children have exactly the same problem with homework assignments. It's not just putting your bum in the seat, but making sure that you are only word processing and not listening for the pleasant ping of new email or allowing oneself to be skyped by one's husband in Buenos Aires. This week it's the National Preview Horse Show and we were there all yesterday and all morning today. We go back this afternoon. Which leaves me precisely one and a half hours to get my arse in gear.
Fittingly, I fall into a great miasma of self-loathing when I don't complete my 1,667 required daily word count, and I dance around the house when I write more (3717 on Thursday, nothing since). The hardest part is to keep writing no matter what, without judging or editing or going back to rewrite. I have created my characters for better or worse and now it is my duty to stick with them (though I do wonder why I named my protagonist Clementine because it makes for all kinds of orange-flavored jokes). In addition to self-loathing (oh, of the worst kind, by the way) I have a serious carbo-addiction. This morning comprised of three pieces of pumpkin pie & two large rips of homemade salty foccacia bread. "This is not like me" I think. "I don't even like pudding." "Oh but you forgot about the devil pumpkin, didn't you" says the bad angel.
The house has become oestrogen central. Minky, me, Dotsie & Bean. Not a man in sight. It's enough to make you temporarily bulimic (I wish!).
So please forgive me when I don't get to this blog or post photos instead of witheringly funnily entries. I am entirely over-scheduled.