Last week brought you tales of joy and birthday celebrations. I rode that high for a week before it ultimately had to come to an end. And like most highs (and I’m talking about my experiences with sugar and caffeine highs here, peeps), that end met with a definite crash.
Last week it was good to be me. This week, I’m willing to offer up a trade. Any takers? No? Fine… I guess I’ll turn all my bitter disappointment into fuel for my writing. And two thirds of the way through NaNo, I finally feel like I’m ready to write again. If I can hold onto that feeling (and all the feelings roiling inside of me) until after Thanksgiving, I might be able to get a start on a new novel. Because I need to get these words out before I burst. Or say something really stupid to the wrong person.
Last week wasn’t all bad, though. Friday night was the Halfway Party. I felt a bit guilty for showing up, since I’m sitting this year’s NaNo out, but the best thing about my writer’s group is how welcoming and supportive they are. Well, maybe Sarah minded… but that’s only because we talked her into a tequila shot that I think she regretted. The face she made after taking it sure made it look like she regretted it.
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