In which I have some cheese with my whine

Ah, let's see what a glass of whine (hic? sic?) can do to my inactive brain cells. Or if I will once again meander all over the map searching for something profound to type. Probably I'll meadner all over the map searching for something profound. It's been that kind of week. I'm really struggling here, and this is where I test the courage of my convictions. I'm really fighting the urge to go hide from this, and not do it. It feels pretty darned silly and stupid. And I know that's what I'm trying to fight, that feeling that it's just too dumb to be put down, but, well, I still have it, and it is a fight. When I'd much rather flight, too. So I sit here and talk about how inadequate I feel, and blather on about the stupid inconsequential stuff.

So I guess the wine didn't really help the brain cells much. I think the exhaustion is taking over. I'm crying at the least thing at the moment. Which I guess is part of what makes this harder than usual.The various muscle pains don't help any either. My skin in amazingly thin right now, my nerves feel raw, and I just want to curl up in bed, have a good cry, and sleep until next week. At least I have a long weekend. Work at home tomorrow then Monday off. It gets hard to get out of bed this time of year, and I need to watch it or I'll slip into a depression again. And yes, folks, I have been taking my vitamins, so this is coming from the exhaustion, I expect.

Sleep is a fleeting thing. And now I want to quote Hamlet. To sleep, perchance to dream. I haven't been remembering much about my dreams lately, but that's probably just as well. I think I'd really rather not know what my subconscious mind gets up to in the middle of the night. Hopefully it's working on my story, and fleshing out the plot a bit, and figuring out the characters. Lord knows part of my brain better be working on that or I'm in serious trouble.

Current NaNo plan: write half an hour twice a day. May have to be lunch, but frankly wouldn't mind finding an excuse to skip eating out. I do that too much. Too much food, too much money, and its starting to be too much time. I'm also feeling antisocial and a little too out of sorts to play peacemaker properly. But if I can't write during lunch, I will try to do a stint in the morning and in the evening. If I can really stick to half an hour each day, I think I'll be able to make it. Ok, so I'm only doing 15 minutes now, but hey, it's a start, and as I say, I'm more consistent than I thought I would be.

And now, honestly, I find my mind a little out of sorts (ok, more than usually out of sorts) if I don't do this blog writing before bed. So I think that's a good sign that habits are starting to form. And really that's what I want. To be in the habit of writing regularly.

I have a lot of writing to do for work, that was due tomorrow. Got a third of it in, but I have a ton of stuff to "make up" this weekend. Who was it that said, "I like the sound of deadlines. I particularly like the sound they make as they go whizzing by me" ?

Speaking of deadlines, my lines are dead, and I'm ready to call it a day. I'm just stretching things out in the grand tradition, that's all.