Today was actually a pretty decent day at work. Got a bunch of stuff done, got more work into the queue to be done and no one really had any complaints. That probably means that tomorrow is gonna suck. I realized today that we're less than a week from November. No truly special significance in that fact unless you flash back to my life one year ago (also an especially busy time at work) and look at all the things that were going on. Then you'll know that I realized that I wouldn't be able to participate in NaNoWriMo. For the writers in the crowd you'll know what I'm talking about. For everyone else, National Novel Writing Month runs from November 1st to November 30th. The object is to turn out a 50,000 word novel in that time span. So, I was a little sad to realize that another year would pass before I could participate. That same sadness came back today as I realized that I couldn't even remotely think about participating this year either. I realize that I post here fairly steadily, but I don't write anywhere near as often as I should. And I'm not honing any skills posting ramblings about Malkin and Crosby's goals or Gage's latest escapades. Can you smell the self-pity? Oh well, it's late, more work to finish and endless odds and, well, ends.