The past week has sucked beyond all reason.
Hormones. Just...hormones. They suck.
I participated in a large scavenger hunt, and feel full of fail because of that little boondoggle. I suppose I'm not full of fail, but still.
The yarn on my shawl is apparently super heavy, because I popped the end of my cable out of the cap that screws on to the needle tip the other day. Sigh.
I had car drama. I always seem to be having car drama, don't I?
I've also had too much drama today and am ready for it to be tomorrow already, please. Or maybe I just need to snarf the chocolate that's sitting on my desk.
Oh, well. Tomorrow I get to try to catch up on my NaNo word count, which is going to be not fun because I'm already 2,000 words behind (and will be almost 4,000 short if I don't get on the ball tomorrow). And then...gah.
I'm half tempted to crack into this well before the 50,000 word mark:
But no. I need a motivation to keep writing.
I don't even know if I like prosecco. Maybe I should have chosen a more reliable reward?