so. the last day of november. and i am nowhere near a novelist. a smart move was made, a bet that i couldn't do it in two days and two hours or i'd buy him lunch. and here i am, 958 the morning of the midnight deadline writing like a madwoman. why didn't i think to lay something on the line before? oh well. i may not be a novelist by the end of november, but at least i've started something that i will inevitably finish, even if i hate it, even if i think it's ridiculous and makes no sense, i will finish. and will end up buying papa johns over the internet or finding my merry way to maryland.

never a big fan of the beatles, i only recently started listening to them, i have 11 songs queued on imesh, i heard he had cancer not until a few days ago, heard he died on my way to dropping my brother off at the bus stop. and i got sad. i got very very sad. msnbc showing pictures of abbey road and the john lennon memorial in new york that now held flowers for george harrison. "and now, more news on the war on terror." just doesn't seem right.

i didn't get to talk to sean yesterday and that makes me sad. but it makes me happy that i am sad. tried to call hi m from oscar's cell in kaybee, they had the apu bowlarama set and i wanted to know if he was looking for it-- not that i had any money to buy it for him but i could have at least strategically placed it behind some stuffed aminals. renegade toys. came online later and asked dan if he was home as my dad and his longdistance free phone were gone, and dan gave no answer. a massive headache forced me away from the desk and onto the bed.

sleepsleepsleep.

and of course, since i was asleep before two, i was up at 7:30. good thing as i have training today at the spc bookstore from noon to 2.

then back home to writewritewrite and most likely cleancleanclean.

all the children are insane.