NANOWRIMO - A Week In.

It's right there, I'm telling you.  It's all just right there, waiting to be written down.  cough.

Did I mention that I've moved the launch date for Kat's on Fire up a month?  Did I further mention that I'm so excited about it, I just want to jump around like a lunatic?

Okay, fine.  I'm a little distracted.  So sue me.  You can't tell me that all those other NANOWRIMO hosebags work as many hours a week as I do.  Plus my new blog is gonna be soooo much fuuunnnerrrrr.........and it's got all these shiny books to seize my attention...and HELLO it involves FIREFIGHTERS....

(she chicken-necks and cocks one brow, daring anyone (QUEENIE) to respond about lack of NANOWRIMO progress)

Speaking of work, today was...surreal.  I wrote the classified ad that will be placed in select newspapers around the state, to entice my replacement to relocate here to Small Town America.  There's something really strange about writing your own ad.  Kinda like building your own coffin.  No, that's not it.  I was actually really stoked at the thought of finding Mr. or Ms. Right to receive my brain transplant in January.  But it was still weird.

I did have another minor freakout last night, when I started thinking about winter driving in THE CITY next year.  I've never lived, worked, or even breathed extensively in a city.  And Spokompton is, well, a city.  With people.  And cars.  And parallel parking, which I freely admit I HAVE NEVER PARALLEL PARKED IN MY LIFE.  If I can't pull into that spot, well, boy howdy, I just drive around the block and look for something else.

I can do this.  I WILL do this.  I'm about to be REPLACED, for shit's sake, so I guess I AM doing this.

OH, and another thing about NANOWRIMO.  Blogging is writing.  I am writing.  I am writing RIGHT NOW.  And I never would have guessed it, but I enjoy blogging much, much more than writing fiction.  Seriously, whodathunkit.  It might be my ticket outta here....cue the dream sequence.

(Siren Sex Goddess is in her recliner, gazing off into worlds unseen by mere mortals, contemplating her next conquest.  A cell phone breaks the reverie, but she's so fly, even her ringtone is Zen.)

SSG:  Hello, darling. 

CALLER:  Hello, I'm calling from "Super Fire Rescues" magazine.  We've been following your blog with interest.

SSG:  I'm so happy to hear that.  I absolutely LIVE to bring joy to the masses.  Are you married?

CALLER:  (a sharp intake of breath, followed by a cough) Actually, yes, I am; for the past 30 years to my high school sweetheart.  However, now that I'm speaking with you, her name escapes me.

SSG:  (a lilting laugh emitting from her throat, causing no less than 4 traffic collisions within a 5-mile radius as men of all ages rubber-neck)  Ah, darling, forgive me - I have that effect.  So what may I do for you today?

CALLER:  Um....uh....

SSG:  You mentioned my blog.

CALLER:  Oh, yes.  (clears throat)  We here at "Super Fire Rescues" have been reading your posts every day.  This morning I met with the publisher of our magazine; we've fired our entire staff and have decided to devote the entire magazine to you.  Would you ever, in your wildest dreams, consider becoming a columnist for us?  Please?  PLEASE?   FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, PLEASE????!!!

SSG:  Now, dearest heart, don't cry.  Of course I will.  This IS, in fact, one of my wildest dreams; as a side note, it's one of the few that doesn't involve peanut butter and AA batteries.

CALLER:  I think I need to go to the hospital now.

SSG:  Do what you need to do, dear.  Do what you need to do.

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It's all just on the horizon.  Do you feel it, dearest reader?