wing.

in the grand scheme of the whole nanowrimo, a major theme is to never look back and, in fact, to write headlong and to never stop. i forgot that what happened last year was not so much lack of interest, but lack of grindstone in the face of the retail holiday season's endless pummeling. i don't feel myself, really. not that it's a bad thing or that i'm slipping away or anything like that. but i think we all hit that notch in which you fall where nothing glows the way it should, and picking yourself up to do it all again, any of it, requires a crowbar and a hammer. i'm in the middle of that.

and i hear the other day, i hear someone say, "just another month," and that's until it goes back to the way it always is. which isn't something particular to look forward to.