Day Four
Without a computer and my fingers are numb from the cold. I have to brave the harsh realities of New England's funky-do weather, which I have loved to hate since I was eight, to get to and from the school's computer lab at strange nighttime hours. It's oh-so-very-cold outside this week.
I'm still not sure what I'll end up going for this coming Thanksgiving break. I know by the end of that week I will once again have a computer I can molest with badness for my very own, but I'm stuck between getting another laptop (only to have it last another three years and then DIE) or get a desktop computer which I can't exactly carry back and forth with me from place to place, but will last me as long as I wish to keep an outdated dinosaur and will have more memory than I can shake a stick at. I'm fretting about this as you can clearly see.
On the one hand, I've cleverly proven to myself that I can, in fact, live without a computer for me to use nearby at any given second. On the other hand, I am unforgivably behind in NaNo. I just breached 21k last night, and I've started to do the dreaded jumping around. Every time I do that in a fic, the fic never gets finished. So, this is when I start to panic. Well, I've already been panicking for a while now. I've discovered I've seemingly forgotten how to write good prose. I can't really describe how horrified I am by some of the shit I'm writing, and not horrified in the dear lord that's gruesome/wrong/how the hell can you write that?! sort of way. No this is the sort of horror one feels when you realize what you're writing isn't good enough for a cat's litter box.
Yes, I may be over-reacting just a tidge, but I can't shake that feeling. I seem to repeat myself 1000 times over, I think I've worn my poor babies eyeballs to a nib with the amount of times I make them glare/glower/stare/look/see/watch/observe...I need to work on that quite a bit, but I can't seem to stop using them. It's like an inconvenient mental block that's laughing at me.
See? This is why I had hoped to never lose momentum on NaNo. Bad stuff always happens when I do.
I'm still not sure what I'll end up going for this coming Thanksgiving break. I know by the end of that week I will once again have a computer I can molest with badness for my very own, but I'm stuck between getting another laptop (only to have it last another three years and then DIE) or get a desktop computer which I can't exactly carry back and forth with me from place to place, but will last me as long as I wish to keep an outdated dinosaur and will have more memory than I can shake a stick at. I'm fretting about this as you can clearly see.
On the one hand, I've cleverly proven to myself that I can, in fact, live without a computer for me to use nearby at any given second. On the other hand, I am unforgivably behind in NaNo. I just breached 21k last night, and I've started to do the dreaded jumping around. Every time I do that in a fic, the fic never gets finished. So, this is when I start to panic. Well, I've already been panicking for a while now. I've discovered I've seemingly forgotten how to write good prose. I can't really describe how horrified I am by some of the shit I'm writing, and not horrified in the dear lord that's gruesome/wrong/how the hell can you write that?! sort of way. No this is the sort of horror one feels when you realize what you're writing isn't good enough for a cat's litter box.
Yes, I may be over-reacting just a tidge, but I can't shake that feeling. I seem to repeat myself 1000 times over, I think I've worn my poor babies eyeballs to a nib with the amount of times I make them glare/glower/stare/look/see/watch/observe...I need to work on that quite a bit, but I can't seem to stop using them. It's like an inconvenient mental block that's laughing at me.
See? This is why I had hoped to never lose momentum on NaNo. Bad stuff always happens when I do.