After what I called a bad week for writing, I wagged a stern finger at myself and got back on track. I visited the gym on Friday night for some Zumba and Yogalates, came home, showered and put on an outfit for going to Starbucks to get some work done. Nigel groaned and rolled his eyes when I told him that I planned to spend Friday nights this month playing the cliche part of the writer in a coffee shop. Isn't it something I had to try at least once though? If I didn't, wouldn't that be like going to New York and not going up the Empire State Building? Even if it is overpriced and cliche, you have to experience it just once.
On Saturday I did more writing, mostly from the warm and cozy comforts of my aunt's house. And today I went back to the gym, washed dishes, realized I had been neglecting my laundry so tackled that, and worked some more on the novel. Just before six I crossed a major marker: 25,163 words. I am at the half-way point on Day 10.
I'm good and tired.
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