It was all going so well, too. NaNoWriMo, that is. I’m over half finished with the 50,000 word requirement, actually a little over 27,000 words. But it all came to a screeching halt three days ago. My day job required me to do a large amount of typing, which I haven’t had to do for the past three years. After 25 years of typing heavily, my wrists are done for. I no longer have an ergonomic keyboard or wrist-supporting typing gloves, because I generally only type a few sentences a day. I’ve been able to type for NaNo because of using my netbook, which has a very easy touch and is not hard on my hands. But having to pound on a regular keyboard with an unforgivingly hard touch made my wrists scream, with cramping and aching while trying to sleep that night. After 24 hours or so they were better, so I felt writing could resume.

But wait! We’ve now been hit with an economic downturn at work, and my pay is currently less than I need to make expenses! I know some people are more creative when faced with adversity, but the prospect of living under the Burnside Bridge with 7 animals in subfreezing weather does nothing for my own creativity. Fortunately things picked up a bit at work yesterday and if I can hang on the next couple of weeks or so, things will be okay. I’m still a bit shell-shocked, however.

I need to recall the example of my own hero of writing tenacity, playwright Tennessee Williams. This brilliant dramatist had a terrible drinking problem, and many days was so hung over he could barely make it to the typewriter, and sometimes fell on the way across the room. But get there he did, and he wrote no matter how bad he felt. On a typewriter. Manual. I’m sure the clacking sound of the pounding keys when hung over was no picnic, either. In the face of that kind of dogged determination, I have nothing to kick about.

I knew that some obstacles would come up during the month of NaNoWriMo; Murphy’s Law always comes into play. I just didn’t know what form they would take.  But I’ll get back to writing today.

In other news, we are expecting possible SNOW here in Portland! Possibly 2 whole inches on Monday, at least at the 500-foot level, which is where we are. My daughter, who grew up in Florida, is elated and can hardly wait. It’ll be pretty, of course, but the practical side of me worries about treacherous conditions. We’ve gotten the things we need for the next few days and should be okay, so we likely won’t have to go out to get anything. I grew up in Ohio, where we had lots of snow; fun when I was little, a pain when I was grown, particularly when I returned to Ohio for awhile after living in the south for a few years. We did see snow on the drive out here last May; parts of Wyoming, around Laramie in particular, looked like a picture postcard with evergreens dotting white hillsides. My daughter wanted me to stop the car on the freeway so she could go out and play in it!  “It’s SNOW! Why aren’t you excited??” she screamed at me. I told her I’d seen plenty of snow in my time. “But that was 30 years ago!” she ranted. I was unmoved. We also encountered snow showers going from Wyoming into Utah, so she was able to roll down the window to feel the snow falling on her hand, but that’s been her entire experience with snow. I can understand her excitement; I just don’t share it. As I said, it’ll be pretty, but I don’t enjoy trying to get around in it.

So it’ll be a cozy weekend; I’ll just stay in and knit. And write. Really I will.

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