I know I've been all, "BLAH, I can TOTALLY do it" all month, but I've had this gnawing feeling in the back of my mind saying that I really didn't know if I could, and if I made it to 80,000 I would secretly consider that okay because it was still a shitload of words, but the more I type, the more I feel like 100,000 is doable. Even when I think I'm completely stuck and can't write anymore, plot somehow creates itself. It's weird. And sometimes creepy. Word wars help. THANK YOU JESSO AND MEGAN.
I've also been battling bouts of other novel ideas that are popping up going, "Start a new book and work on ME!" I know they are just casual flings that would amount to nothing and cause me to not finish THIS book, but they're soooooooo tempting. Stupid "ideas". I know once I finish this book, all those ideas will vanish into the abyss because I'm not smart enough to write them down.
My boss is also taking pity on me (because I nearly freaking fell asleep at work today), and he's giving me Saturday off so I have a *gasp* TWO DAY WEEKEND. This is awesome. I moved my voice lesson to earlier in the day, and that means I can actually go to a decent chunk of the Mid Way Party! Jesso, are you going? I can't remember.
Okay, that's all outta me. Life still revolves around NaNoWriMo, as it should in November, I think, and I'm drinking coffee I really shouldn't have bought but otherwise I probably wouldn't bother going to Economics.
I'm using my hot Gyllenhaals icon because I CAN.