Well, it's day 21. I should be around the 35000 word count now, but I'm still sitting morosely at 30750, and I'm not happy about it. I'm not happy about it at all.
I should be studying. I should be writing. I should be doing whatever it is one does on breaks... I don't really know what that is, but I should be doing it. I have readings and translations and tests and projects starting on Sunday night, and it's not okay. I thought break was a time to relax, for goodness sake.
Or to catch up on all the stuff you've been missing.
Or to do something productive, like catch up on your novel's word count.
But no, I'm sitting here, blogging, and wishing I didn't have such a crap word count, and so much homework due by Tuesday. I'm realizing how much I complain about this, and how little I actually do something about it. It's not like I can't do anything about it, for goodness sake. I'm an autonomous individual, or so society would have me believe. Even if I say I'm leaving to do something productive, I normally just goof around for a while before I actually make any headway in anything.
Which kind of sucks, when you think about it. Just being a goof all the time. It gets nothing done.
It doesn't help that I have commissions due, too. Yep, I have to knit four scarves in three and a half weeks, because it's not like I don't have a ton of stuff already.
Right, I really need to stop complaining. I took my leave today and yesterday - I hung out with my friend earlier today and my boyfriend before that; yesterday, I didn't actually get much homework done and pranced around my empty hall with a friend, singing Christmas music at the top of our voices and not caring that it wasn't even Thanksgiving yet, and posting random videos on our other blog, and doing stuff of a highly nonproductive nature.
It was great.
But now it's time to work. The funtime has ended, and it's time to actually do something. Time to stop trolling along online and not writing or studying or anything.
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