(November 2-24: A not insignificant amount of writing, but a not insignificant amount of slacking, recovering, job searching, and having a social life. Excessive drinking of coffee. Discovery that shiny new netbook randomly reboots itself, and not because Windows is being an assclown. Growing instability of the venerable and tied-together-with-string desk chair. Budget crisis brought on by not being a motherfucking adult, mostly in the form of excessive drinking of coffee. Irritated shoving-of-bucket under sink to deal with suspected leak.)
November 24 (Wednesday): Dogsitting for aunt. Reservation of evening of December 1 for apartment complex holiday party. Watching scary amounts of MythBusters on uncle's Netflix account. Writing done: less than I think, because Google Docs has given me extra words. Realization that next month's Google Technology Users Group meetup a week hence would be pretty cool, entrance onto waiting list for same.
November 25 (Thursday): Dogsitting for aunt. Thanksgiving. Two different social things. Writing done: zero, zip, zilch, nada. (Plotting, though.)
November 26 ("Black" Friday): Heading home from Thanksgiving. Oil light in car goes on. Trip home delayed on account of adding more oil so as not to burn out engine. Nap (shorter than it should have been due to oil crisis and general keyed-up bizarrity). Black Friday expedition ensues. Realization that car tire probably could use some air. Napping for most of rest of day, with exception of dog care and picking up dog prescription from vet. Writing done: Oh, hahahahaa.
November 27 (Saturday): Dogsitting, and nonstop word wars with chatfish. Drinking of the Scary Blue Stuff.
November 28 (Sunday): Return of the relatives, tidying of the house, and something that might have been any sort of combination of holiday-induced jetlag, general exhaustion from running around/writing/dogs, and a hangover from the horrible blue stuff.
November 29 ("Cyber" Monday): Back at home, writing like the wind. Panic. Nonstop word wars with chatfish. POP! goes the desk chair. Swapping out of desk chair with stupid yellow plastic chair. Acknowledgment that the apartment is a wreck. Getting headache. Holding warm candleholder to head. Putting out fringe, airing out apartment, microwaving rice bag, showering to get bits of burnt hair and burnt hair smell away. Hitting over 42k by the end of the night. About 750 words short of a 10k day. Worst is over. No actual smut exchanged with chat partners.
November 30 (Tuesday): Writing like the wind, but in a far more organized fashion. Nonstop word wars with chatfish. Recruitment of poulpette from capslock_dreamwidth to the Endless Chat for wordwars. Sudden craving for protein, specifically, roast pork shoulder with Canadian Steak Seasoning. Horrible realization that the hunk of frozen meat that was thought to be there was in fact not. Substitution of chicken. Baking. 1900hrs. Sudden plot crisis 2k from 50,000 involving the mechanism of a particular magical ill effect. Feeling that the crisis will be solved with application of someone to bounce off of, and protein. Removal of pan of chicken from oven, reconsideration, setting of chicken back in oven.
Sudden white-light flashbang from behind oven. Panic. Oven display dead. No smell of smoke, no sight of smoke, continued lack of both, no fire, no need to summon the fire department. Breaker box is unfamiliar from general lack of issues; on cursory freaked-out examination, things look normal. Realization that apartment is not remotely presentable (including dead office chair on floor), should not be shown to maintenance in this state. Calling of friends to freak out while cleaning up; friends nagging about novel. Alternating tidying with writing. Finally, breakthrough: a mechanism for the thing appears, 50k hit (exactly) with an hour and a half to spare. Chicken's edible and even tasty.
December 1 (Wednesday): Lack of panic. Sleep. Further housecleaning. Sudden move from waiting list for GTUG meetup to YES list. PANIC. Removal of chair to dumpster. Unplugging of some things, plugging in of others. Paying of rent and renewal of goddamn lease (like a motherfucking adult). Reporting of drip and stove problem (like a motherfucking adult); being told that the motherfucking adults in the maintenance department are backed up and it might be Monday before my sink will stop possibly leaking and I will be able to use my stove. Realizing that the apartment party and the GTUG meetup conflict; prioritizing. (I think you know what I picked.) Printing out information sufficient to establish that I am the lunatic I say I am from the meetup thing, on the clubhouse printer (like a motherfucking adult). Freaking out and flailing around (like a motherfucking adult). Putting air in my tires (like a motherfucking adult).
Driving to Mountain View and socializing with other geeks. Coming up with questions on accessibility standards for Google TV. (Google TV is like a cable box that hooks your cable and your internet together, with some Chrome elements, and maybe even some Android elements from what some of the other guys were saying. You watch your tv through it, like a cable box; unlike your cable box, it's happy to snaffle things off YouTube too, if that's where you happened to find it rather than in your cable lineup. And then people are building sites specifically for it, and you should be able to navigate it with the up-down-left-right-enter pad on your remote.) Using "Hi, I thought it was great, I was going to ask about accessibility standards, like designing for people who are strobe-sensitive or colorblind" as an intro line when meeting a guy who actually has been developing stuff with colorblindness in mind. Figuring out some of the things I can use for my actual selling-myself thing for getting a job. Considering whether actually whoring myself out would be simpler.
Coming home and falling on my face and watching MythBusters in bed. (Oh. Right. TV. There was a tiny one on sale on Black Friday, and I figure I'll get my no few cups of coffee worth of enjoyment out of it for many weeks to come. Even if the only thing I watch is MythBusters.)
December 2 (Thursday). Not remembering to turn the TV off soon enough, and getting sucked into Overhaulin' and how if anyone tries to prank me in that fashion I am likely to react *very very badly*. Staying up way too late. Getting up at a reasonable hour to go to the farmers' market with aunt and her sister-in-law. FRUITS! (Grapes, pomegranates, persimmons. Also mushrooms. And artichokes.) Saying "Hello, my spiky darlings!" to a pile of artichokes and stroking one. Getting stabbed. Getting ready to waltz out the door to go take in netbook to get looked at. Not wanting to drive. Deciding to take public transit. Panicking because of having never taken Caltrain before. Procrastinating. Answering the door for the maintenance guy here to fix sink and stove. Seeing sink was just a loose something. Hanging around while he discovers that the breaker was in fact tripped, and when he turns it back on, it goes FLASHBANG and turns off again. Stripping a pomegranate and tidying. Learning that it was the socket for the oven light having a wire stick out and short out on some piece of aluminium (not even remotely my fault). Waiting for him to see if he can fix it (he can't). Having stove working but light not, until he gets the part in (yay!). Heading out. Getting on a random train headed the right way. Realizing that not all trains make all stops. Figuring out which train to take back the right way. Taking it. Missing the (late) bus that would have taken me to Micro Center. Waiting (crankily and coldly). Taking the bus. Getting off too soon. Walking enough to irritate knee. Waiting at next bus stop. Taking next bus. Getting off at right stop. Annoyance at weird walk to get to store. Handing in laptop. Realizing that half of cord is gone. Locating very pink headphones, solar thingy. Heading back. Waiting for train for nearly an hour, very cold. Discovering the wonders of the niiice Caltrain cars, rather than the cramped-seated ones. Getting in the mood for pizza. Having a run-in with the fucking flash on the fucking website.
So, uh. Busy couple days. Draft's not finished, but 50k is; enough's done so it'll get finished, when I'm not so dragged out. My hair looks fine. I can bake again if I want to. I'm glad I survived.