I mean, sheesh.
Here I get all het up and ready to write for NaNoWriMo, and THINGS keep happening to me.
Many are self-inflicted (changing medications, etc, resulting in
the spinnies, very distracting), some are other-inflicted (I’m looking at you, LH, and that deadly upper respiratory infection) and some are weather-inflicted. It’s been raining and dark and windy all day and the cat keeps following me around to glare balefully at me and then sleep sprawled out in ways that make me want to join him.
Plus rain plus dark equals need for milk chocolate, my favourite serotonin enhancer, and there is none here unless I drape myself in water- and wind-proof substances and race across the puddles to a source.
We shall ignore for the moment that I am not supposed to eat it. There must be pressure valves in life.
Tonight, the weather people have prophesied a freeze-over, guaranteeing a skating rink tomorrow. People in cars have been crashing into each other throughout the day in preparation. Sirens are howling all over the city. As most of the ambulances will be waiting in ER parking lots for at least 8 hours to discharge their people (Looking at you, NS Government up for election and deserving of being thrown out), this means that tomorrow, anyone who gets broken will have to fix themselves.
I do have all the equipment somewhere here. Don’t ask me why. I’m really not a first-aider (The person might vomit, and I am all about joining in on that sort of thing) and I am also not a hypochondriac (much), but let’s just say my annoying body has times when it needs support here or there. Consequently I have ace bandages and splints for hands, ankles, wrists, feet and probably elbows. If you break your hip, you are, alas, on your own. I could probably tape a nose. I have bandages, but they are very old and of questionable stickiness.
Of course, should I rescue you, you then would be subject to the cat’s glare and perhaps an inhalation treatment of shed fur. It’s everywhere and he has decided being brushed is an abomination. Because of the weather, the birds haven’t come by to feed and he is very very annoyed that his TV is broken.
I did see one Blue Jay, struggling to hold onto the feeder which was teetering in the wind (it is cast iron) (Nova Scotia wind is formidable). The poor guy tried to turn so he could grab a peanut without mussing up his feathers. He managed two peanuts and fled.
The cat missed it. He was asleep, under a blanket. I had to fight the gravity waves coming from the bed, beckoning me to join him.
I’m only keeping the cat partially cheerful because, unlike his servant (me), he has adequate treats near at hand. Every time I go to the grocery store I come out with two apples and 26 cans of cat food plus at least three treat packages. I am losing weight and my hair is falling out but his fur is spectacular.
I must get back to the book in question. In case you have somehow forgot despite my frequent mentions, it’s a fiction book called ‘Recycled Virgin.’ Watch for publication notices and turn those pages! (please?)
I have revealed to my very understanding religion prof that I plan to release it despite (or perhaps, because of?) his wonderful classes. I feel, somehow, that he is deeply disappointed I would choose to write about the BVM after listening to him. Now that I’ve told a Genuine Theology Professional©, I have no excuse for hiding the story any longer. He already thinks I am quite mad.
The big problem with doing this process, editing, as a NaNo task is that as I add words, I remove different ones. I am not getting word count traction. I am tempted, as some are, to insert pages of nonsense syllables to up the count. (Did you know this? Books in Kindle Unlimited, for example, get paid by page turns. Uploads of books are used for fraud*. Etc.)
Clever (and somewhat fraudulent) writers put their table of contents at the end, or insert entire other books into the middle of their novels. Amazon is getting tougher on this, and it really isn’t my bag, but there are ALL THE FREEBIES and discounts if you ‘win’ NaNoWriMo, and I need some cash for apples.
And milk chocolate.
(Don’t tell the cat.)