::Cries::

I am deathly bored. I don't want to write. I mean, I do, but I wish I had it all on computer instead of mostly scattered through several previously written-in notebooks. This stresses me out beyond comprehension. (Maybe during Thanksgiving vacation I will get to do some t-y-p-i-n-g catching up. Doubtful though, I will probably be doing some demonically intense sessions to finish writing my NaNo. ::whines:: But I want to be able to send it in to them and get the official word count!!) With my sinfully incorrect word count; I must be at least 100 off by now. Gah. Frustrating parents. Way to pick November to ----- at me.

He makes me want to talk Gothic. Does that make sense? Certain people just make me want to talk Gothic. He also reminds me of Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale from The Scarlet Letter. Although I can't quite put a finger on why.

Honestly I have been letting everything I would normally sit up and take notice of just sliiiiiide away to get this thing done. Dishes, homework, "bedtimes," no sleep, no food, caffeine overdose, and all sorts of threats from everyone from Mr. Madden to my parents. It's like......BRAKE!!!!......NANOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Everything stops. Nothing else matters. Which would explain why I'm dawdling here now talking to a kid I don't even know about the aforementioned novel. Sigh.

Look Robin, I'm being.... nice. And honest. Err, sort of, anyway...