What happened to the month of November? Really. What happened to it? I remember November coming in, then I remember Thanksgiving, and now it’s the first of a brand new month. December.
Looking back, there isn’t much I can point to and say, “This (or that) is an accomplishment.” Most events for November are blurred together, and, except for Thanksgiving Day, very little truly stands out…except for the gloom of gray skies and rain. Just like today.
I think I can actually count the writing projects I’ve contributed to during the past month on one hand. This makes me feel rather like a failure. Yes, I can come up with reasons as to why the word count has been so horrific, but it doesn’t make me feel better.
Part of me believes, quite firmly, I should already be settled and should be finishing up everything I’ve been previously working so diligently on. The truth is: I haven’t figured out a writing routine at all! And, with Christmas fast approaching I don’t expect to get one down until well into February of 2016.
The Husband says most of the gloom and doom I’ve been feeling of late is due to the gray and the wet with the absence of a sun/grow light, which does help me combat these sorts of days. If the sunlight bulb would help, I’ll make sure and have one by the end of the week, but, where to put it, especially since this isn’t my house and I can’t put one in each light fixture of the house, which is what part of me is screaming.
About the only thing I’ve really been consistent about is reading and knitting, and playing Shadows of Mordor and Destiny.
Maybe I should try writing parts of the stories by hand again. Maybe this will boost the word counts.