It is pitch black outside at almost 7:30.  On a cloudy, foggy morning in November at this latitude, this is as it should be.  Especially since that means P will sleep in much later than the 5:30 I’ve been treated to recently.  Ah…quiet.  And you wonder why I curse the sun?  It’s because it messes with my sleep (and singes my skin).

My NaNoWriMo word count as of last night is around 7500 words.  This, too, is as it should be, because the target is 1667 words a day, and yesterday was the 4th.  1667×4=6668.  Which is not to say that I am not completely jealous of my friend Indoor Camping, who is at 16,000 something, but given that she talks fast, I expect she types quickly, too.  Again, as it should be.

The move appears to be tentatively on again.  I am skeptical (that’s my role here), but OK with it now, because the price of my compliance is a “study” in a new locale. Downsizing aside, I want my own door to close.   As it should be.

My toe is feeling better this morning.  Yay!  Although I have this hideous bandage on it, courtesy of M, who confessed he made it bigger (and thus uglier and unable to fit into truly cute shoes) because he knew I would push myself too hard otherwise and re-injure it.  Well – yeah.  As it should be.