Not quite sure how this happened and, quite frankly, past the halfway point with only 21k I am not quite sure why it continues to happen. I do not have a novel, not even a NaNovel. I have a series of scenes and an obligatory death. Two in fact. And a monster.
Am contemplating having the monster eat everyone in 50 words or less and calling it a day.
(Rocks fall; everyone dies)
Utterly disheartened by the world right now. Putting the 21k of pain aside I am completely snowed under with the day job, doing "non-existant" administrative work; that wonderful snowballing kind where taking care of one matter causes five more to appear from the woodwork.
And I have a two page article about my department how it fits into the grand scheme of things. Which is wonderful as my department no longer, technically, exists. In the same way as the administrative work no longer, technically, exists. Very much present and active and yet officially nothing.
(I see dead administrators, walking around like regular administrators; they don't know their department is dead.)
My fingers are blue, partly because there is no heating in my office but mostly because, instead of my lovely, mess-free Lamy, I decided to use my favourite calligraphy ink in a nameless bulb-fill fountain pen (because the ink is gorgeous, but thick and would gunk up my Lamy in seconds). Have scrubbed hands under the hot tap but it's stained my cuticles and looks as if I have repeatedly slammed my fingertips in a door hinge.
I suppose it could be worse; I could have actually slammed my fingertips in a door hinge, but I am having a bad day and finding the silver lining in the storm doesn't appeal very much right now.
