La Vie Boheme

I'd heard of this happening,

I'd heard of this happening, but I figured I was long past the time when it could hit. Ever since the 1st, I've been mortally certain that I will never write another word of fiction worth reading ever again. As untrue as I know it is, part of me is positive The Exile's Daughter is the last fiction I'll ever write. Obviously, my NaNoWriMo novel is going nowhere. I've written about 500 words since Friday night. And they're all crap.

The dumbest thing is, I'm kicking myself and guilting myself for getting behind and considering dropping NaNo. I mean, hello, I already wrote a novel this year. This in turn makes me irrationally angry at the concept of NaNoWriMo, as if it's somehow to blame for my current lack of inspiration.

I spent most of today staring blankly at the computer, websurfing and playing Minesweeper. Then around 3 I went and took a two and a half hour nap. I ate way too much junk and sugar today and not enough real food, and all of this contributed to me feeling like shit. I know that. I know what I'm feeling is entirely irrational, from the NaNoWriMo anger to the guilt to the sudden bursts of out of control fear about anything and everything.

I've spent today trying to figure out ways to combat this, but haven't found the motivation to actually DO anything. I think I'll go to bed here soon, and start out tomorrow with a real breakfast and see what happens from there.