I can’t believe how the days are slipping by, how it was just the beginning of November and I was stressing over how I was going to write 50,000 words for the first draft of a novel, plan a surprise birthday party, enjoy the holidays, etc. Now it’s already December and I get to do it all over again, minus the novel writing. I’ll edit later with an official ending word count for Trouble, I’m thinking right now it’s between 12,000-13,000 words which of course isn’t even close to making me a winner, but I do feel better about it now than I did all last week. This is the most I’ve written on one project in over a year and it’s one that I’m still interested in and feel I can develop later with more time and when I’m in a better place mentally.
I’m so frustrated right now. I’m so tired of days slipping by and I realize I haven’t updated my blog in almost a week, haven’t called my mom or wished someone Happy Birthday, haven’t written more than 364 words. I’m so tired of wanting to write and not having the energy or the ideas or the time or freaking mental capacity. I’m tired of stumbling upon all these great books and not having the time to read them (today found a biography of Anne Sexton).
And I’m stumbling on so many interesting calls and my biggest fear is that I won’t get that kick in the pants or whatever it’s going to take to attempt any of them.
So, yep, I guess I just stopped by to whine a little. I’m trying to get my act together, really I am.