The writing continues apace. Well, slow is a pace, isn't it? I'm trying various experiments to get more time. What I really need to do is be consistent with some systems. One thing I've been trying is setting a timer for my internet connection at night.
This has been the main drain of time. And last week I found myself looking at the same sites and mindlessly surfing instead of being focused and to the point (which I usually am on the internets). I think the best thing for me would be to limit my online time, use that effectively, and then get off and look at the blank page until the inertia to writing is overcome.
This morning on the way into work I attempted to give myself both a tough love and motivating talk. I realized that probably part of my resistance to writing this novel includes the facts that 1) I already know most of the story (so I've told it to myself) and 2) the fear of success and 3) general pessimistic outlook (part of the depression, which I'm wondering if the Wellbutrin is still working, each month I've thought of going off it and like a puppy to Pavlov I keep refilling the prescription).
Add on top of that all the other work, the day jobbery stressful fun (we let go people on Friday and other things I can't talk about here), the night job stress (have to schedule yearly reviews sometime soon), getting caught up with home maintenance things, and a decoration project I'm almost done with (3 three-foot tall stars that will be hung and lit in sequence like a chase effect).
I'm back to not sleeping well. I've never really recovered good sleeping habits since I broke my leg six years ago. There's two causes for this, first is an allergic reaction I've been having lately and second because of the cats. One is fairly good, although she wants attention before settling down to sleep. The other I keep waking to find she's curled up right behind my knee. This morning she lay over my foot and proceeded to squirm and purr. You may saw, "Aw, that's cute," but not at 4am.
And then there's the weight. I've been putting on pounds instead of losing them. Most of October and the first part of November I haven't eaten smartly (almost wrote "well," but maybe I've been eating too well) and not using the Wii. There also hasn't been much work out of doors. I need to build another wood crib and start splitting the larger logs we have (did that back in September, I had forgotten what a workout it was).
On top of all that has been the feeling of being overwhelmed. I now have almost 500 blog posts I haven't read yet and I haven't been writing many real blog posts lately (which is why there's been all the linkee-poo going on). Plus I'm not going to have time to go to the writers group this weekend and it's only six weeks until we have houseguests.
I don't know. Maybe the universe only has so many words to give and everybody NaNoWriMo-ing are sucking up all the supply. It might also be that it's dark by the time I leave work (not necessarily a new thing, but then I used to be working until 7 or 8 every night). I don't know, but hopefully I can break out of this and get back to writing. I can't reap in the big advances if I don't have an agent, I won't get an agent unless I have something to peddle, I won't have anything to peddle unless I finish the book.