Tonight was the regular write-in, with five attendees and two glasses of wine. (I really have to stop having the wine. I turn into a goof-bag.)
Despite the wine and giddiness, I did manage to finish Chapter One, based on my notes, and I’ve clocked in at 2,468 words. That’s nearly a 5th of what I had before I lost the draft. This is good!
I’m also coming to grips with my inept social skills, and feeling slightly bummed as a result. Again, I chalk it up to the wine.
I may have to strike out on my own for some tea and solo work. I’m not getting any writing done in the house when I have my days off, and my dreams of getting 10,000 words done by the end of January become more and more impossible sounding. There is still so much to pack, though not so much as before: the remaining bedroom stuff, the bits and bites spread out on my desk, the remains of my office closet, my actual closet, the kitchen … oooh, I just have a headache thinking about it. Again, probably the wine.
I think tomorrow night, since I have no discernible plans, I will make it a stay-in and write night. Whip up a little puttanesca, make myself some decaffeinated tea, and get those notes typed in once and for all — even if it means sweeping all the junk on my desk into a box so I don’t have to look at it!