Fillet of Soul

Work is hell, especially driving 2 hours a day for the priviledge of obsessing about hyper-specific triviliaties. Luckily, I've got the mornings, which I'm alternating between the gym and Nanowrimo (again, for what, the fifth time?). This year is proving maybe a little more encouraging, though, with as much hand-wringing as I've been doing over the years about getitng back on the writing horse, I actually seem to have a storyline with some legs. I'll be devoting some time to it, at least, although I don't think I actually habor the delusion that I'll be piling up 50,000 words this month. I believe 5000 would be a personal record, so the bar's appropriately low. At this point, low is wonderful.