I don’t feel good. I’m tired, I’m grumpy, my tummy is upset (I really need to start eating better; pizza for dinner last night was just plain stupid), I’m bored, I don’t want to write, I don’t want to work, I’m tired of the dog romping around, I’m just generally pissy. *sigh*
nothing to say
I have nothing to report today.
did it.
40,200 words, or thereabouts. Haven’t actually counted, but the chapter was in the 600s somewhere when I stopped writing to watch Buffy (yeah, I watched it, because I’m indoctrinated, or something). So I wrote just under 4K words today, I think. Somewhere around there. My brain’s a little tired now, or maybe _I’m_ just a little tired. I could finish the chapter, but I think I’ll take a page from Hemingway’s book, and begin tomorrow from one true thing.
40K…
40K in T minus 400 words, and counting.
mutter.
Mutter. My shoulder is hurtful. Not painful, just sort of wearyingly achy. I have made a chiro appointment for tomorrow morning, and perhaps I’ll start to get this problem worked out. Feh. I was going to say something else, but I seem to be drawing a blank on whatever it was. Er. Oh well. I guess it wasn’t all that important. Oh, I remember. It wasn’t, in fact, all that important. I got Bounce, Bon Jovi’s latest CD, a couple days ago and listened to it this morning. It’s not…