I’ve been working on a new story, but the scene I’ve been working on isn’t even the beginning, rather somewhere near the quarter/half-way mark maybe. It’s giving me a good glimpse at some of the main characters at least.

Just realized I might have left a bookmark in the library book I just returned, only to open my next and find someone else’s bookmark in it.

I’ve been working on my 2024 crochet book snake. I’ve finished through November. I’m hoping to get some of December finished tonight and can finish the rest tomorrow. It is bigger than me, and I’m never making one again.

I had a moment today where I went to pick up my black yarn and pulled out just the middle instead.

It’s bad enough I’m already sniffly. Then that episode of Schitt’s Creek has to be in the rotation, and now I’m sniffly for two reasons. The Meet the Parents episode is my absolute favorite.

I’m about to put some pumpkin snickerdoodles in the oven and thought I’d do a writing sprint while I wait.

I hate crocheting and sewing on the little pieces, and that’s most of what I’m doing today. Taking a break between getting the face on and the arms and legs.

I hate when a book is perfect, and then you get to the last page. There were some questions I really wanted answered, and then it just ended.

I thought I found my new favorite horror author, but now I’m not so sure.

I finished the last round of a crocheted piece, just to look back at the instructions where it explicitly says “work in front loops only”.

It sucks being an anxious introvert. I’m alone in the house for the first time in weeks and go to get a shower.

What if someone breaks in? *puts chain on door*

What if someone comes back?
*takes chain off door*

What if someone breaks in?
*puts chain on door*

*takes 15 minute shower anyway*

I’m not doing NaNoWriMo this year, and probably never will again, but I reached 50,000 words in my novel yesterday. After years of trying to make progress in this rewrite, it’s a huge milestone.