My mind is a bad neighborhood...

... that I shouldn't visit alone. I can't remember which writer said that -- Mary Karr? I'm squirrely on the weekends I don't have the boys. I think it's because I'm convinced that during this free time I should be uber productive, writing and painting and self actualizing. I imagine that my ex is using his free weekends to beat me to the top of Mazlov's hierarchy. (Competitive? Me?) 

This weekend I mulled around the house leaving a trail of empty Halloween candy wrappers behind me, unsure of what to do with myself, not wanting to do anything really. Sunday I realized it was the first of the month and the first day of nanowrimo, the national novel writing month. I opened a file on my computer, the equivalent of putting a blank sheet of paper into a typewriter, then freaked, trying to convince myself I could do this. I got up and sat back down over and over again. My friend L called and gave me another great quote from Dorothy Parker: "I don't like writing; I like having written." Amen, sister. L and I also decided that we both hate beginnings, on top of which I hate endings (of all kinds) and that the best part of novel writing is the middle. So I should be enjoying myself toward the middle of this month.

The daily goal is 1666 words. I wrote 816 yesterday and they were real dreck. I can't wait to see what putrid vile I come up with today.