Word…No Forward Movement?


It’s the fifth day of NaNoWriMo and the (I suppose) inevitable has happened…I haven’t written a thing today.

It started off this morning, when my daughter woke up well before my alarm went off. She’s been sick since Wednesday (yes, she was ill for Halloween, a fate too cruel) and though she seemed to be on the mends, we could tell she still wasn’t all there.  Last night, she barely ate a thing and then she passed out on the couch.

Of course, I didn’t see that because I, too, passed out.  Turns out mommy and daddy are hardly the indestructible creatures we so often try to make ourselves out to be.  We were both suffering from headaches, sore throats and general yuckiness.  Waking up at in the morning certainly didn’t help matters.

So it was I couldn’t bear to drag my near-corpse self out of bed first thing in the morning.  And once I was up and running (read: barely moving while sniffling about how much I hurt), I had too many other things to do.  Top on my list, after sending my daughter off to school: get a ballot so I can vote!  For some reason, my ballot never appeared in the mail for me like it has every election since I turned old enough to make my voice heard.  Me being my procrastinating self, I decided to wait until the day before the election to start looking into it.

After getting my ballot and doing some shopping, it was off to work.  Unfortunately, I was subbing for someone, so my usual lunchtime activity of typing in a frenzied rush was impossible because, well, I didn’t get a lunch.  I worked straight through.  So, unless by some miracle I can park my cheeks in front of the computer tonight when I get home, my word count will remain where it is.

Fortunately, I accounted for this (somewhat).  I knew there would be days with little to know input, so I trudged ahead on those days I could.  Sadly, with today’s word count remaining stagnant, I’ve barely broken even.  I’m not worried, though.  I have a week full of lunches and waking up early to get ahead once more.

Either that or I’ll spend that time in bed moaning and whining about how much I hurt.

S.L. Madden

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