Well, now, life just keeps getting more and more disturbing interesting. Over the weekend I caught up with my lagging word count, writing something like 6,000 words in one long-afternoon-'til-evening sitting. Remember, because I wrote that much doesn't mean it's all that great. It just means I hit a magic number. I also killed off a character I didn't expect to. Now that she's gone it makes way for another happening, thence getting to know a formerly shadowy character a lot better.
If I decide I don't like the route this is all headed I can always revive her in the next draft. Too bad life's not like that, eh? Do something stupid, back up the cursor, write in something else. Is there an App for that? It could be called the 'Foot-in-Mouth' App. Or the 'Great Move, Douche' App. I'd forgo the free version for the full one you have to pay for. For the little icon, I'm thinking something like this:
It's a picture of one of my redneck relatives I found in an old shoe box. No joke. My relative really was in an old shoe box. Reunions make me all misty.
Today's Day 10 of NaNoWriMo and I should be at 16,667 words. And where am I, besides sitting at my family room desk with a walking pole (more in another paragraph or so) by my side? 13,964. Not bad, considering I haven't touched the laptop in a couple of days – the laptop I can only hope and pray doesn't burst into flames or get stolen before I finally stop being lazy and back up what I have onto another source.
Since I'm home today – nursing the knee I damaged all over again yesterday, doing stupid things I shouldn't have – I'll catch up with my word count and even get a little ahead. Too bad I had to hurt myself all over again – winding up in bed with an ice bag atop my elevated knee – to earn my catch-up time.
In a few minutes I'm going back to upstairs to lie down. Me and my walking pole that kept me from falling on my face (though my posterior did hit bottom once) during our summer vacation, walking on big, slippery rocks in a stream I had no business being in in the first place. The rocks were unstable – imagine that, their being covered in slime and all. They forced my ankles to bend, in order to keep my balance. Though my ankles aren't the ailing joint, unfortunately, when they bend the knee gets knocked off-balance, too. And my knees are very much my ailing joints.
Recap: I'm home today because I walked too much, up and down too many hills, to prepare for a vacation in which I'd anticipated walking a fair to middling amount. By the time we actually left on vacation I'd already torn my meniscus tendon (I've been through it before), so I could hardly walk very far at all, despite all that by then useless training. Still, I decided I'd be a sporting lass when it came to walking in a stream bed somewhere out in Utah, in order to see pretty slot canyons. What can happen when you have a good walking pole?
Quite a bit, apparently. I came home (in late July, if you're following this) with the meniscus tear and just this week saw the doctor about it. He gave me a shot of cortisone under the kneecap. That made it feel loads better pretty much immediately. Until yesterday, when I decided I wouldn't bother anyone else about dragging the garbage can down to the curb, walking down then back up our very steep drive. I knew something had gone wacky then but chose to ignore it and go on with my day. Fast-forward through the split shift from hell. For the second of two programs I had at the library I thought it would be okay to lift a heavy, six-foot table and set it up in the meeting room, for no better reason than I thought it would be silly to call our custodian, who set up the rest of the room. The guy whose job it is to set up the six-foot tables. Somehow, in my wee brainie, I felt since I was already there it was an awful lot of work picking up a phone, dialing an extension for help. Then, SNAP! Pop goes the meniscus.
I'm hoping three days of ice and elevation will buy me some time before eventual surgery. I see my doctor again early next week, so he can look at me, then hit me over the head with my fancy walking pole.
Phew. All that to say I'm freshly injured and catching up on NaNoWriMo today. No wonder I can write 50,000 words with minimal effort.
And by the way? I never even made it as far as the pretty slot canyons. All I accomplished was screwing up my knees and getting my shorts wet, both of which I could do just about anywhere. Next time I'll stay home, hit my knees with a hammer and hose myself down. Sure would save a lot in gas money.