I am almost 23,000 words into my novel and will likely not finish.
It is not like me to quit things in the middle, and I feel very unsettled about it. I used to thrive on deadlines, even self-imposed ones. That's what grad school is all about, really.
Ever since The Bad Thing That I Can't Blog About happened, though, I have no ambition for a frivolous project, have to drag myself through even the most practical ones. My daily must-do list swells, and at night, I can barely keep up with the plot of a TV show, much less remember details of a dream world I created under slightly different circumstances.
I took this picture of Ben and Harry yesterday.
Ben was faithfully taking dictation for Harry's Chrismukkh wish list that we promised to mail to Santa but really just stuffed in our kitchen mail/junk basket so we could take it with when we shop. He started the list by thanking Santa for all the candy-- so much that it spilled from his stocking all over the floor, a detail that's stuck with him all year- and telling him that he appreciated the train table. he said that he and Jack have been sort of good this year and that they have tried to be really good which cracked us both up because that's just about right. It was an adorable moment, one that made Ben and me lock eyes and take stock of the little things we're thankful for. Especially the little 40 pound thing in front of us and the 30 pound thing snoring upstairs. THEN HE ASKED FOR EVERY TOY THAT HAS EVER BEEN ON TV, which wasn't as cute.