My baby turns 19 this weekend and I’m feeling a little out-of-sorts about it. I have to schedule time to see him on his birthday. I realize this is something that happens to parents when their kids move out, but seriously, he’s still living with his father, so there shouldn’t be such a problem.
But that’s life, and I just need to deal with it. However, after this week at work, I’m not really into that whole “dealing with shit like an adult” mood, so instead I will whine about it for a while.
I think I need to take notes on the funny stuff that happens, because it’s getting harder to remember any of it at the end of the
The weather is turning chilly and I finally had to turn on the furnace, lest we all succumb to a state of torpor. Torpidity. I love that word! It ranks right up there with crocodilian, quart, and chalcedony. Ok, I also think Chlamydia is a lovely word and fun to spell, but, uh, no. Do. Not. Want.
…and my favorite number is 16, I’m an Aries/Pieces cuspidian (I just made that up, because that’s another thing I like to do) and people hate to play scrabble with me. Except for that one time, at Writer’s Camp…
Gawd, my head…where was I…?
I’m still slogging through the manuscript, but with fatigue constantly on hand to beat me senseless whenever I attempt to think, the process is going a lot slower than I’d hoped. I can still get it done before the next NaNoWriMo begins, but only if I sequester (another favorite word) myself away from family for the rest of this month and do nothing else. Except work. And sleep. Maybe shower a couple times.
It will get there, I promise. And? I just learned that another NaNoWriMo novel just hit the NYT best-seller list. Awesome sauce, man, awe some sauce.
I need to get busy…