…the time will be December 3rd, 9:20 PM, in the year 2009. NaNoWriMo has come and passed, and I turned my eyes from it because I smelled like failure and unwashed clothes. My failed NaNoWriMo book from last year is hovering at 55 pages, almost all of it quality. That’s surprising. I’m trying hard to focus on just one story at a time, even though the one I’m working on right now is only 8 pages.

I have plenty of time to write, but it’s just not coming to me. Or I’m ignoring it. Or I’m scared of success, or scared of failure. Or a million other things that could be prying at my mind. I find myself drifting to video games, almost constantly, between work and food.

I’m writing this post from a cute netbook with an even cuter themed Google Chrome, and it’s so adorable!

I sat down to write almost half an hour ago, and couldn’t even concentrate on that. The very last second found me almost not even turning on the netbook… I can write at the laptop on my desk, probably be more productive too, but I’m not doing that either.

Kinda hungry.

Kinda everything-but-creative.