Thursdays are the worst. I just want everyone to understand how awful Thursdays are. You’ve gotten past Wednesday, which is supposedly hump day, the middle of the week, the its-all-down-hill-from-here, but you’re not quite at Friday. It’s like this ridiculous lump that you just want to kick off the calendar, just sitting almost at the end of the week and refusing to get out of the way. Go away, Thursday. No body likes you. (This says nothing of the fact that my work week is actually Tuesday-Saturday, so technically Thursday is my Wednesday and after a year and a half of this schedule I should probably get over some of my animosity. Whatever.)
In all honesty, its not just Thursday that is bugging me this week. Pretty much everything is bugging me to some extent. Little things that really shouldn’t be a big deal. An unreturned email or phone call, an offer of help one too many times, a slow day at work, things that bug normal people a normal amount, are sending me into these ridiculous internal rages. Do you know what I mean? Where you just want to yell and throw a temper tantrum like you’re three years old. Tell me I’m not the only one who experiences this. Please!
Frankly, I blame NaNoWriMo. Dear NaNoWriMo, I love you, but you’re making me insane. Literally, I feel like I am losing my mind. I wake up early to write and I think about my book all day, sometimes sneaking away to write a little bit more during lunch. You have infiltrated my brain and are completely contributing to my feelings of insanity. Part of me feels that if I had, like, six hours to finish this freakin’ thing I would suddenly go back to normal. I would feel like myself again and I would have control of my life. Right now a 16-year-old girl named Brooklyn who LIVES INSIDE MY MIND has control of me. Instead of “get out of my dreams and into my car,” its “get out of my head and on to the page, please, for the love of all that is good in the world!”
My sister asked if I was going to be relieved when this is all done. While I think there may be an element of relief, I also think I’m going to be extremely sad. Its going to be kind of like when I was a kid and I would do my last performance with a show, I always spent the next few days out of sorts and on the verge of tears. I don’t think I’m going to be elated when I’m done. Part of my feels like I’ll have to spend a few days rocking back and forth in a corner somewhere. I think the real work will start when November ends. Then I’ll actually have to read this 75-80 page monstrosity and see if anything I’ve written actually makes sense. Talk about a daunting task!
So, the bottom line is, I’m losing it a little bit. Bear with me for the next few weeks and hopefully I’ll be back to normal soon. Maybe I won’t be though. Maybe this is why all writers are a little nuts. It’s hard to have so many voices in your head and not enough time/energy/speed in your fingers to give them life fast enough.