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Saturday, Nov. 01, 2003 / 1:53 p.m. ~Major Shift In the Time/Space/Procrastination Continuum~ This is so great! Now I can write here, or in my LJ, or I can clean and cook, or go see movies, or watch TV, or anything BUT... WRITE MY NOVEL!!!! Yes, folks, that's right, don't touch that dial, I'm writing a novel. Scroll down to the bottom of this frame, just above where I ask you to scroll to the bottom of the page, which you should do at some point, you know you don't really spend enough time exploring my diary, see the new icon? Hold your cursor over it, what does it say? Hey, it's a link, click on it, unh huh, YOU, TOO, can write a novel in 30 days, QUANTITY, not quality, 50,000 words by November 30th. Why? Why not? Whee!! Because if you do it now, you'll never NOT do it later. Get it? Oh, oh, oh, Pam, this is perfect for YOU! You are so busy, you have so much going on in your life, this is just what you need!!! But you can't use the novel you already started, sorry, you have to start from scratch. Come on, someone else needs to do this with me. Alright. Whatever. No, no, that's fine, do what you want, do what you need to do, this is actually perfect for me because I HAVE NO LIFE. But anyway, yeah, since I have no imagination either, it's a fictionalized autobiography, but I hate the working title, so I won't even mention it here. I'm going to change it as soon as something good pops in my head. And do you see how I'm not writing it right now, how I'm writing here instead? Great, isn't it? A new reason to procrastinate, not to find a reason not to write here, but to write here as a reason not to write there. There, 'there', is MS Word. I like Word. Word likes me. I should open it, yes? But see, I'm thinking my fingernails are too fucking long to type well. And it's hot in here, it's supposed to be near 80 today. I got up about a half hour ago, yes, around 1:00 p.m.!, and opened windows, but it's hotter out there than in here. Maybe I should turn on the a/c? Maybe I need to go take a shower. I need to go shopping. I have no food to eat, well, there's always something, but you know, no real food, no fresh food, so I need to do that. And part of me really, no REALLY, wants to see "The Station Agent" again. That movie was SO good. And then I should get a head start on my "GL"s on tape, as I always wait too long to watch them. See? Isn't this great? A HUGE new reason to do all the things I keep putting off! So that I don't do the NEW thing, so I procrastinate instead of doing IT. Okay, my main character is me, seeing as how it's a fictionalized autobiography, but I'm all about nonfiction, so this is really hard. I gave her a name last night, another one of those Appalachian names I like so much. But it probably doesn't fit her. I need to fictionalize a bit more. Dammit, did I mention this is hard? Don't tell anyone, but before the start time, midnight, I wrote 222 words. Just to see how I'd start the thing. You know, like in the movies, sitting at the old manual typewriter, using PAPER, but on my PC, in Word, Title, Chapter One, blah, blah, blah. Whee! And I don't smoke or drink, not really. I have some bourbon in the kitchen. I could go get some cigs. Should I snort cocaine too? A lot of famous writers were cokeheads. Or maybe absinth? See, how I can be straight and write a novel? I really need to cut my fingernails now. Expect a lot more diary entries. Cost of the War in Iraq
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