Doomtown

I've been threatening to post a Fifty Shades live-tweet review for some time now, and every time, I've found better things to do. Like one day, it looked like rain. And the next, it was such a nice day, I didn't want to waste it. And you know, like pretty much anything else that didn't have to do with sitting in a movie theater while watching this film. But last Tuesday, I finally did my duty to blog and followers and saw the film. And yes, it was ALL of the awful. Although I've never read any of the books in E.L. James' series, I've always been careful not to put them down-at least, not too hard and not in front of a hardcore fan. I've learned the hard way what trash talking a book you've never read will earn you, and it isn't a light spanking from a rich hunk sporting a gray t-shirt. But much like Twilight , I'd heard enough about the general plot to know how bad it would be. And when I learned it was first conceived as Twilight fan...

I am tired. I am damn tired. I am soooo damn tired! You just don't know. Even though I told y'all at least three times. And I'm not just repeating myself to up my word count . Especially since I'm so far behind on my fifty-K submission, the NaNoWriMo stat site suggests that if I keep up this pace, I might be done with my fifty thousand words sometime in late January. I'm hoping to rectify this situation tomorrow night at the NaNo writer's Eastbank meet-up, but I'm not holding my breath. Still, I got a couple of good stories and two blog posts out of the deal (this one included) so it's all good. The reason I've been so lacking in vim and vigor lately is because I've foolishly agreed to work extra hours at the spa. This has got to be the worst possible time to do such a thing, but if my husband is willing to kill himself working two jobs, I can't very well refuse this form of suicide either, can I? I'm totally not typing that bitterly, ...