iI’ve accomplished nothing of this magnitude before. This story isn’t fantastic at all. But it’s my novel. And it’s done. And it’s my very own. And it’s going to be tucked away until January, when I can take the time needed to polish it up into a shiny imperfect gem.
That means, “Kill Me Now, Please.” My NaNo novel is at 44097 words, and I can’t write any more tonight.
I’ve written over 7600 words in the last two days, and to finish by midnight 11/30, I’ll have to do 2952 words tomorrow and Tuesday. In reality, I feel as if I can finish tomorrow after work. It’s the home stretch, cats and kittens.
In other odd developments, I’m not worried about work tomorrow in the least. If you take into account the fact that when I DO worry about work, everything turns out fine; then tomorrow should really suck. But I’m motivated to go in and start tying up loose ends of current projects and reigniting stalled ones.
Plus, I’m off to the gym tomorrow before work. Ambitious thing, aren’t I?
If you see this, Blogger has again failed to publish my site in a timely manner.