Plan of Action

The plan today:

• get massive amounts of laundry done
  
• clean the kitchen
  
• write somewhere around 5000 words on my novel
  
• copy a video tape
  
• clean off the dining room table
  
• throw something out
  
• put pine garland on the other side of the porch railing
  
• take a check to the mom in charge of Brownie Mag-Nut sales
  
• take the gift for Booie's friend to his house
  
• take the kids to the library
  
• go to counseling
  
• make the bed
  
• put away fall decorations

Already in progress:

• laundry
  
• kitchen

I decided to take the week off from learning graphic design, and I'm catching up on housework and novel writing, since I did neither of those things the whole Thanksgiving weekend. Okay, I actually did do some housework, and the living room looks quite nice right now. Even the dining room doesn't look half bad, but the table does need to be cleared more than what I've already done. I would really like to get the carpet shampooed this week, but that's a lofty goal I won't beat myself up over if I don't get it done.

What I will beat myself up over is not getting my novel done. I'm woefully behind, and by anyone else's standards, I'm setting myself up for disaster to think that I'll finish it by the 30th. Anyone else doesn't know how well I do under pressure at the last minute with a deadline looming. I will finish this. At least, I'll get 50,000 words, barring disabling illness or natural disaster. I doubt the book will be finished by then, and it will probably be chock full of horrendous writing and extraneous storylines, but it will reach that 50K mark. If I have to document the last three days' dreams as character dreams, by God, I'll do it. Nobody said this had to be a good novel.

As usual, I did bite off more than I could chew. It was a little silly for me to think I could handle holiday planning, learn a new skill, avoid illness, have sick kids and worry about John's employment while writing 1,600 words a day. Even so, I set out to do this, and I'm going to do it, because I'm sick of failing.

Better news is John has secured a one-month gig for January if he doesn't have something else by that time. He has another plan in the works, so we're hoping that will pan out, and I won't have to get a job immediately. John keeps joking about the two of us working at the Sheetz near our house. I never laugh when he says that. The prospect of that becoming a reality makes being sick seem sunny.

More good news: I found the receipt for the digital camera. Actually, John found the receipt. I never would have found it, because it was in his briefcase. I went through every receipt I could find, shredded half a million of them while doing so, and didn't find even one Best Buy receipt. I was starting to think I would just have to send the camera in for repair and pay, but now that we have proof of warrantee, I might be able to weasel my way out of paying. I know it's evil, but that's a part of me I've learned to accept. If they tell me I have to pay because it was dropped, it's not like I wouldn't have done it anyway. I just have to hope the interior doesn't show signs of dropping, just like the exterior doesn't. Notice I don't mention the brand of the camera, so no one can rat me out. Karma will get me in the end, so rest assured.

I'm wasting all my words here, and I'm going to sit down and be blank. That would tell me it's time to stop avoiding the novel even more by writing a stupid journal entry and get cracking. Right after I put that load of laundry in the dryer.