So, I’m almost two weeks and a few face palm moments into this NaNoWriMo thing, coming to grips with the whole layer of stress I’ve added to a month already filled with frenetic activity. Signing on to write 50,000 words in 30 days wasn’t my Most Brilliant Idea of All Time, apparently.

And I live with enablers. That’s a problem. You put the holidays together with the co-dependency thing and it’s a recipe for a whole lotta’ not getting stuff done around here in a timely fashion.

Exhibit 1: A typical evening at our house:

“Did you get a run in today?”

“Uh, nope … did you?”

“Well I walked out to the mailbox in my socks, and I kind of did this kind of tip-toey, joggy thing because the pavement was cold. Does that count?”