I got up early again today (though not quite as startlingly early as I did on Tuesday), anticipating dedicating my morning to helping my niece move out of her house and into her first apartment. But I got delayed around eight in the morning, and when I called to ask her if she still needed my help, she didn't answer the phone (nor did my sister, and only my nephew picked up, and told me Cathexis said she didn't need me).
It may be that she'll need me later on, but early in the afternoon, I came to the library. It's just as busy as it's ever been right before closing, except it's extremely well-lit, due to the sun still being up. I can now focus on writing, getting more words done than I did yesterday (which shouldn't be hard--in three sessions I managed about three hundred words), and see if I can't salvage a few words for the month (one of my goals for January was to put out an audio collection, and another was to make a cover for "A Sidekick's Errand," neither of which I am likely to do in two days).
Push-ups Today: 128
Push-ups In January: 2641
I realized that tomorrow would mark a full year of blogging every day . . . and yet, this was only February Sweeps Day 359 (I've since changed it, because I had three posts with the same day on them in January). That leads me to believe that I've screwed up the count somewhere along the way, which is sure irritating, and I further suspect that my daily word (and sit-up) counts are also compromised, and I could have a good deal more words than I've credited myself with for the past twelve months. Even so, it hardly seems worth going through (like I did with January) and adjust the numbering, since no money is involved and it's only me that cares in the first place.
Still, the knowledge that today should be Day 364 instead of Day 361 bums me out a little.* I had told Big Anklevich that I would be stopping the daily writing routine on the first of February, and that I couldn't wait to be done with it, despite the good it's caused me. He is planning on writing every day starting on February first, and did a practice run yesterday, sending me texts throughout the day of how many words he'd gotten done. When he reached a thousand, I became jealous. When he reached two thousand, I became furious. When he reached five thousand, I became dubious. And when he reached eighty-one thousand, I realized I was misreading his messages.
Even so, it is not a competition. The only winner or loser is me.
Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In January: 3409
I know I post a lot about writing on here. I can't see how it is entertaining (but hey, what even is anymore, you greedy, jaded bastage?). But I picked up a book called "The Golem and the Jinni" a week or so back at the library (recommended to me by an algorithm or Satan or something), and I've got to say, its prose is among the most readable I have ever encountered. Today, I spent more than an hour with my big nose buried in the book, and at one point, I realized I was being carried off by a storyteller of the highest caliber, somebody whose talent makes me seem like nothing, not even a well-meaning amateur. And I cried. I cried, not because I was found wanting, but because there is someone out there with this kind of ability, making me care about characters and places I would never have guessed I could.
I wrote as hard as I could at the library, having to sit on a desk with no plug on it, and writing until my laptop ran out of juice (like that last time at the cabin, when there was no more electricity). Even then, I was in a part I wanted to finish, so I found a now-vacated kiosk where I could plug in the machine, next to a lovely (I'm guessing) red-haired girl in leggings, and probably got another four hundred words there.
Words Today: 2568
Words In January: 23,986
*I looked at October, and there was another instance where I skipped back two days, and that explains a bit of it. I'll shift them all up, see if that fixes it.
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