Well, At Least I'm Writing This

I've been in a mood - half-sick, half-PMSsy, all brooding and gloomy - all damn day, which means my NaNo word count's at zero, but is in good company, as it's right down there with my self-esteem, positive outlook, and general desire to ever leave the house again.

It'll pass in a couple of days.

My general cure has been reading fiction of the schmoopiest, most brainless variety you could possibly imagine, and listening to Tom Smith's "Rich Fantasy Lives" on freakin' repeat because, let's face it, escapism is where I truly excel. On a good day I can amuse myself just by staring into space and making shit up for an hour. On a not-so-good day, I've got fiction and I'm not afraid to read it. Sure, my moods may be making like Disneyland attractions, but give me something to read and I could just be crying (or laughing) because the prose is so awful.

On the good-news front, I start work on Monday on an assignment that'll last through March. In a couple of days, this'll make me very happy.