Remember back when I was stuck on the side of the road, typing my book with cold fingers while I tried to predict the fate of my car (transmission issues)? Well, 1,500 dollars of repairs later, and my transmission is now failing. So while I try to decide whether or not my 2001 Ford Taurus deserves a new 2,000 dollar (minimum) transmission or if I want to try my luck on purchasing a whole new beast, I have fallen behind in word count.
My Sunday rampage has petered out into a 300 word deficit as of last night. That doesn’t sound so bad, except it means that now I have to produce upwards of 2,000 words today.
So today is a day of 2,000:
2,000 dollars to fix my car (not including the new brakes and tires it needs).
2,000 words to get back on track (not counting the section I’ll delete which will detract from word count).
2,000 emotions cycling through my hormone-addled brain.
I’m not gonna lie. I spent a good portion of yesterday moping, halfway changed from work clothes to pajamas, wondering if I could use the Force to prepare dinner instead of exerting actual energy.
For the record, the Force failed me, and frozen fish triumphed (to be clear, yes I put the frozen fish in the oven first. I didn’t eat it frozen. My teeth aren’t that durable).
On a scale of Things I Want to Do, I’m sure it’s easy to guess where everything stands. Unfortunately, the scale of Things I Need to Do is inversely proportionate.
Over the next couple of weeks, it’s going to be a struggle to balance life priorities and writing goals. But as long as I can focus on using writing this novel as a tool for relaxing and letting myself not succumb to monetary anxiety, I think I can make it!