So much for NaNoWriMo. If you go to a victory party, don't look for me. I didn't even break 5,000. But few things are more boring than writers who aren't writing, talking about how they aren't writing. Yiich! So no more on this topic from me.
Don't look now, but it's December. Today I ate my first Christmas cookie of the season. May it be the last. I will not let happen this year what happened last year.
Today I drove for many, many miles and many hours. When it was over my nerves were shot. I found I needed to enter a space where I was cut off from all stimulation. I created a decompression chamber for myself. I wrapped myself in a thick robe, and put myself in a room alone, where I shut off all light, except that from a small lamp, and put a blanket over my head. I lay like that, not sleeping, for a long time. The other day after much socializing I felt an urge to put my soft knit cap on my head. I was indoors, but the hat felt comforting and snug, and i kept it on for the rest of the evening. This might become my thing this winter. Maybe this will be the year of my growing eccentricity, the year they'll look back on as the time when I started wearing that damn hat everywhere I went.