I haven’t done the actual calculations, but I reckon I’m around 5,000 words behind in my creative masterpiece. And that’s what’s finally convinced me that the NaNoWriMo thing is a good idea. Before, whenever I told myself I would write my Great American Novel or Life-Altering Screenplay or Subtly Disguised Semi-Autobiographical Erotic Escapade*, I would get about 10 pages in and then give up and start procrastinating and let myself get behind. So no new surprises there. And I would realize how stupid it was to even try it, and just give up there. But, having a deadline looming hasn’t made me all frustrated and depressed, but resolved to make up the slack. And knowing that it’s something that’s only important to me makes it a “I can do this!” deadline instead of “Oh crap I’m going to get so fired I’m just going to lie down and close my eyes until the panic goes away” deadline.
I’m also behind in my sleepin’. Not because of the writing, but because of… not sure what, exactly. I’ve been averaging four hours of sleep the past couple of nights, and yet still somehow kind of halfway functioning. Glendale is taking on a semi-magical fever dream quality. I guess if I’m going to be stuck in a hotel in Burbank for a week with no access to my media, might as well throw insomnia into the mix.
One thing I’m not behind on is my work. I was dreading having to spend a whole week in LA, but it turns out to have been the best thing. We’re making progress, and for the first time in a few weeks it doesn’t feel like the whole world is collapsing around me. I think when this Disney gig’s over I’m going to have to go back to a real job, instead of working by myself from home. Turns out I ain’t so good with self-schedules and writer’s block.
*Just kidding. I’ve never attempted to write such a thing. I swear to God.