fine whine

Well, I've faltered. I wrote nothing at all for my novel on Saturday, and my parents are visiting Sunday. I didn't even keep up my ideal writing pace for a week. Nothing else important happened in said week either, except maybe for some restructurings at work (leaving me effectively where I've been) and Jessica getting serious job prospects. Like I said, nothing important.

Oh, I did finish reading White noise by Don DeLillo and Gun, with occasional music by Johnathan Lethem. The former was amusing, the latter was utterly brilliant. My novel looks like a worse idea the more this month goes on...

My nanowrimo entry's not so hot. I've only got 1035 words so far, not the 3333 I should have after two days. Doubts surface and distractions abound, but I'm confident I will finish 50,000 words before December 1. I think I can, I think I can, and so on.

One distraction, though, stands out. I've come to realize that my "healthy" meals aren't so much healthy as less unhealthy. My morning bagel alone comprises 350 calories once the grape jelly hits it, and I wash it down with 300 more calories of milk. Assume that I burn 2200 calories in a day, and with effectively two things I'm already a third done for the day. I'll have to look into this some more. What got me going was the Hacker's diet combined with the general influence of all my Atkins-attempting coworkers. I suspect I can combine ideas from both to come up with a way to lose my annoying belly. What would be cooler than to reach the end of the month with 50,000 words of a novel and many pounds off with more to go? I can always hope, at least.

I know for sure that I'll be using less jelly in the mornings.