Doomtown

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, ...