Waxing and waning.

512 words, and my stomach is a week old croissant, all tough and tied up in a knot, and I feel like I’ve messed up everything with this story, and like nothing is right, and like none of them are the right age, and like I’m trying so hard, and it’s moving so slowly and it’s just moving so. slowly. and what if I don’t finish it? And what if I hit a slump and I just give up and I don’t finish it?

The stomach is a month-old croissant now, a hard, doughy lump plopped in the center of me that I can’t shake loose. I just have so much anxiety tonight and I can’t stop thinking you idiot.

Things will look better in the morning, I hope. The sun always gives things a better perspective. The moon draws out the shadows, lets your worries play against you. I’m hoping things seem better in the morning.

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Daily word count towards my very slow moving, meandering, unorganized novel: 434.

Okay, so it isn’t much. But on the bright side, when I did the math to figure out my word count, it was all easy subtraction and I didn’t have to do any carrying!

Uh, yeah…it’s kind of a weak bright side, I know.

Random notes for the day:

– I took out my nose stud after over a year of having my nose pierced. It just never fully healed and I think it was about time. Kind of sad though, because I have some awesome nose jewelry and I have no idea how to repurpose it.

– I bought more red wine. Hurrah! Alcohol! Healthy life choices!

– I went outside to look at the moon. You should, too, if it’s still night wherever you are. It’s pretty tonight. Appreciate nature!