I was surviving through NaNoWriMo. But then I had papers. And more papers, and I was flying out of town on Wednesday, so I needed to get all of those papers back. And pack. And make lists of houses to see in Georgia. And set up appointments for dentists and doctors and optometrists right after Thanksgiving so the kids were all set before we moved.
And I got a cold. (Of COURSE I got a cold! How could I possibly NOT get a cold? I've hardly slept since the semester began.)
But now I'm sitting in my hotel room, with nothing to do except write (and cough and sniffle). And I visit my NaNoWriMo page, knowing it's bad, knowing I haven't written in several days, and I was already behind.
Only it's worse. I'm behind by more that 11,000 words, and at this rate, the stats tell me, I'll finish on December 17. Yikes!
Now what do I do? Give up? Go down to the lobby and eat a bunch of free cookies? Walk out to the highway and get myself hit by a trucker? Go over to the Wal-Mart and apply to be a people greeter, since my writing career is obviously not going to happen?
Nope. I'm going to write. Deadlines, schmeadlines, I've got to write. And write and write and write. Not to keep the red from showing up, but because I'm a writer. Yup, I'm not a people greeter, I'm a writer. And writer's write.
See you December 17! (Just kidding. I'm sure I'll be done by the 15th at least!)